


Of Fallen Angels and Gravel Roads

by BrokenWings0712



Series: Roadway Confessions [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 13, Alternate Universes, Angels, Angst, Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, Nephilim, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Pining, Pregnancy, Sex, Smut, Soulmates, Torture, Witches, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWings0712/pseuds/BrokenWings0712
Summary: Alternate Realities suck. They take your heart and rip it to shreds while the sun shines all because you don't belong there. You don't belong anywhere, or at least I don't. Not anymore. The devil killed everyone I loved and would have killed me if it weren't for a bunch of strangers that just so happened to be perfect reflections of the people I'd lost.Now what?OR the one in which I got this awesome idea to smush together my two series and made it a reality. This story will be told from several POVs, so brace yourself, take a deep breath, and enjoy the ride.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING!
> 
> If you haven't already, go back and read the first two parts of Roadway Confessions. This story picks up right where the second one left off and has major spoilers in the first chapter.
> 
> If you have read those, I strongly suggest you go back and read part three of my Broken Wings series, "The Weight of These Wings." It's not totally necessary, but it will help clear up a few questions you might have. If you're feeling realy adventurous, read all the parts and fall in love with the characters like I did. 
> 
> Once you've completed all that, I encourage you to proceed. Good luck, and may Chuck be with you...or something like that. Enjoy!

Dean pulled Baby into her space in the garage before cutting the engine and turning to the woman seated next to him. Alex flashed him a shy smile, her dark eyes casting downwards to where Dean had taken her hand once more. She still had a bit of vamp’s blood spattered across her neck and t-shirt from the hunt they just finished, and her jeans were caked with mud, but still, Dean had never seen anyone so beautiful. 

“Ready to go?” she asked softly. 

Dean flashed her a grin and brushed her bangs out of her eyes before cupping her face and leaning across the seat. “Almost,” he whispered. “Just one more thing.” He pressed his lips to hers, reveling in the sweet taste that was just so…her. He swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips, groaning quietly as she opened for him. They stayed that way for several minutes just basking in the other’s presence, letting something good wash away the memory of killing monsters.

Eventually, Alex placed a hand on Dean’s chest and pulled away. “We should shower,” she said as they fought to catch their breath. 

“We?” Dean repeated, the thought going south and making his dick twitch with interest.

“You better believe it,” Alex laughed. “No way am I letting you get me all hot and bothered without following through.” 

She reached for the door handle and winked at him over her shoulder before climbing out and heading straight for the hallway. Dean followed hear rear with his eyes for a few seconds before smirking and walking over to where she stood on the single concrete step, waiting for him. When he stepped up with her, Alex gripped his jacket and pulled him in for another long kiss. Dean backed her up against the wall, slotting his thigh between hers and grinding against her. Alex gasped, turning her head as Dean’s hands came up to palm her breasts.

“Al, I—”

“Blood, Dean,” Alex reminded him. “We’ve gotta wash it off first.”

He groaned and let his forehead fall onto her shoulder. Damn her for being right. Dean sighed and stepped back, pointing down the hall with his head still hanging. “You have two minutes,” he said. “Then I’m coming in, vamp blood or not.”

Alex huffed a laugh at his antics and opened her mouth to retort when a scream cut her off. Immediately, she and Dean were off, his gun drawn and her dad’s archangel blade in hand as they searched the halls for the source. Sam and Jack met up with the pair in the kitchen. They had been in their rooms when the scream echoed down the halls, and they’d gone searching for Cas. Sam and Dean locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them in the matter of a few seconds, and Dean nodded once, letting his younger brother take the lead. Alex and Jack fanned out in the middle, clearing each room as they passed, and Dean got their six, making sure nothing snuck up on them from behind. A loud crash sounded then, and the group picked up speed, jogging silently towards the library. Sam pulled up short at the doorway, his body rigid, and turned wide, fearful eyes on his older brother. There was only one thing that could make Sam Winchester look like that.

Lucifer.

Dean pushed his way to the front of the pack, patting Sammy on the shoulder as he did, and peeked around the corner. Lucifer was crouched over someone lying in a heap of books and the remainder of what had once been a bookcase, and Dean strained to hear what was being said so he could better understand the situation.

“You’ll make it,” Lucifer was saying, “but it won’t.”

Dean moved out of his position, waving the rest out as well, and pointed his gun at the devil’s head while he yelled across the room. “Hey, dickwad!” 

Lucifer dropped something on the floor with a thud and stood, turning glowing, golden eyes on the group. That was new. “Seriously?!” he screamed. “What is with you people? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Dean clenched his jaw and cocked his weapon. “Now!”

Alex thrust forward her palm, gritting her teeth as she fought to hold Lucifer in place. Jack raised his as well, but his eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hand slowly curled into a fist, and the devil exploded in a flash of white light as he screamed in agony.

Dean coughed and waved a hand in front of his face as the smoke dissipated. “Gross. How the hell did he get in here?”

“We might have bigger problems than that,” Sam told him as he slid his gun into the back of his jeans and hurried over to the body on the floor.

“Who is she?” Jack asked while looking over the younger Winchester’s shoulder. 

Sam shook his head. “She’s injured.”

“And pregnant,” Alex added with her eyebrows raised. 

Dean’s green eyes flashed from Alex’s face to the woman sprawled on the floor. She had long, dark curls that were quickly becoming soaked with what looked like blood and a familiar looking hoodie that was riding up in the back. He could already see an assortment of bruises forming on her pale skin, and Dean swallowed hard as he contemplated what to do. They didn’t know anything about this woman, but there was only one way to find out.

“Al, can you heal her?” 

The woman sighed and pushed her own hair back away from her face. “I can, but I don’t know how it’ll affect the baby. That is, if it’s still alive…” Her voice grew quiet at the end, no doubt remembering the sweet toddler she’d lost what felt like a lifetime ago.

Dean squeezed her shoulder. “Just do the best you can, okay?”

Alex nodded and went to step around Sam when the woman on the floor cracked open her eyes. Her bright blue eyes rolled before her lids fluttered shut again, and she breathed a word that put everyone on edge.

“Castiel.”  
_____________

Alex watched as the woman passed out again and raised a brow at the man beside her. “Still want me to heal her?”

Dean’s jaw ticked rapidly as he stared at the growing pool of blood around their mystery guest’s head. “Yeah,” he said. “Put her in a room and make sure she’s secure. I don’t want her waking up without one of us with her. We don’t know who or what she is, and I’ve got questions.”

Alex grabbed his sleeve, stopping him as he turned away. “Where are you going?”

“To make a call.” He started to pull away again, but Alex held him firm.

“Hey,” she insisted, a question in her eyes.

Dean turned back with a sigh, and his face softened some as he finally looked at her. “I’m just gonna give Cas a heads up, okay? Go ahead and clean up without me. I’ll be right back.”

Alex closed her eyes as Dean reached up and palmed her cheek, opening them again as he dropped his hand and walked towards the kitchen. She watched as he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed before holding it up to his ear.

“Hey, man. We need to talk…”

Dean’s voice faded. And Alex turned back to the woman on the floor. She pressed two fingers to the woman’s forehead and a small smile played at the corners of her lips as the bruises and blood disappeared.

“Now what?” she murmured to no one in particular.

“Whoever she is, she came prepared,” Sam said. He tossed an army green duffel bag on the map table.

Alex helped Jack get the young woman in his arms. “Take her to my old room,” she instructed. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Jack carried her out of the room, and Alex smiled again as she caught him whispering soothing words to the woman. Technically she and Jack were cousins, but Jack’s innocence combined with the way they lived…well, it made Alex feel like he was more of a younger brother than anything. After all, they had trained together back when her dad was still alive, and they still made one hell of a team. Gabriel had turned the pair into a weapon far greater than Heaven or Hell could take on, and it actually made their lives much easier. Once word got around that they’d taken out the weirdo, apocalyptic Michael, demons and angels tended to keep quiet. They were still on the hunt for Lucifer—or they had been until a few minutes ago—but these days the most they had to deal with was regular monster hunts. 

Alex walked up to Sam and looked over the items he’d taken from the girl’s bag. “Wow,” she breathed. “She really was prepared.” Among various articles of clothing—mostly t-shirts and yoga pants, Alex noticed fondly—there was also a few pictures, an angel blade, and a yellow notepad filled with more wards, sigils, and spells than Alex had ever seen in one place. “Where do you think she got all of this?” 

Sam shook his head and tossed the notepad back onto the pile. “I don’t know, and I don’t know how she knew about Cas either.”

“Old friends?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Hazel eyes fell on the pictures, and he tilted his head a little before reaching forward to retrieve them. The first was an ultrasound picture, but beyond that, Sam couldn’t tell much about it. The second, however, made him fall into the chair beside him and run a hand over his hair as Dean walked back into the room.

“Alright, Cas is on his way down, said it’ll take a few—Sam?” He rushed over, squatting in front of his baby brother. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Alex told him. “We were just going through the girl’s stuff when he sat down.”

“Dude,” Sam finally said as his eyes met Dean’s. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

He handed his brother the picture in his hand, and Dean took one look at it before turning to Alex. “Where is she?”

“My old room. Dean, what is it?”

“Us,” he growled before marching down the hall.  
_____________

Castiel rolled over onto his back with a groan, clutching his side as he did so. He was too late. He had tried to close the rift to prevent Lucifer from getting to Melanie, but he was injured and slow, and he failed. He didn’t destroy the spell fast enough, and now the devil was in a completely different reality with the mother of his child. Castiel gasped and slapped a hand over his eyes as tears threatened to spill down the sides of his face. 

Lucifer slit Jack’s throat right in front of him, sucking his grace right out of the boy and punching a hole through his chest before wiping out the Winchesters with a flick of his wrist. Castiel hadn’t been fast enough to save any of them either, and he had no choice but to abandon their bodies and fly back to the rift in order to save the woman he loved. He almost made it, too. Melanie was out, and Castiel was doing a good job of holding the devil back, but one wrong move led to a blade in his side and Lucifer on the move. Castiel lunged towards the bowl on the table, but Lucifer made contact with the rift one hundredth of a second before, and he was gone by the time the bowl’s contents splashed across the concrete floor.

Now, what could have been an eternity or only a few minutes later, Castiel was alone in the darkness, alone in the world, and he didn’t know where to go from there. He prayed that Melanie was able to get away from his older brother, but the chances of that were slim. Still, Castiel had to find her. He would track her down if it was the last thing he did. He didn’t care who or what he had to go through in order to get to her, but her time was dwindling. By his count, Melanie had exactly nineteen weeks and two days before she delivered, and he would find her before that happened.

Castiel gritted his teeth as his fingers probed at the wound in his side. It wasn’t healing like it should, and, although he couldn’t see for sure, he had a sneaking suspicion an archangel’s blade was to blame. Breathing heavily through his nose, Castiel pushed himself up onto all fours and searched the floor until his hands found the weapon. It wasn’t his, but neither was the one he’d attacked Lucifer with, so it didn’t really matter at this point. It was a start, and that’s all he needed. Now he just had to get back to his normal health so he could begin tracking down leads.

Castiel stretched and flexed his wings behind himself, letting the feathers unfold as rage seeped into his chest. The room sparked once with electricity before the angel disappeared.

He had work to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly from Melanie's POV, so in keeping with her series of stories, her POV will be the only one told from first person. There are page breaks where the POV changes throughout the story, and I'm hoping that makes it easier to read, but if not, let me know, and I'll see what I can do to fix it.
> 
> Enjoy!

As I slowly regained consciousness, I became aware of a few things. First, I was in a bed—weird, considering the last thing I remembered was laying broken on the floor. Second, even though my brain felt like it’d been frying on a hot sidewalk in the middle of July, my body was relatively okay. Shocking, but hey, I was just thankful to be alive. After all, the devil himself had used me as his personal punching bag just…how long ago was that?

The previous day’s events came flooding back to me in increasing detail, and an overwhelming sadness settled deep in my chest. I squeezed my eyes tight, refusing to take a look at my surroundings until I had a handle on my emotions. I couldn’t take stock of my situation without a level head, so I gave myself thirty seconds to really feel everything, and then I’d shut it down, lock them all up and get on with whatever today required of me.

Deep breath. In. Out. In, and count. One, two, three, four—

“Who the hell are you?!”

My eyes flew open, and I pushed myself up in the bed just as a furious Dean Winchester came barging in. His neck was red and a vein throbbed on his forehead as the man clenched his jaw, no doubt waiting for a response. I raised one brow and appraised him for all of two seconds. He was just like my Dean in a lot of ways: same haircut, same tiny scar on his chin, same spattering of freckles, well, everywhere. He even wore a familiar looking flannel. It was blue and red plaid, topped with a green canvas jacket and covering a plain black t-shirt. Ripped jeans and a pair of scuffed up boots completed the outfit, and I held back a smile as I remembered spilling coffee on that same shirt months ago at a diner just south of town.

This Dean had one trait that stood out in striking contrast to my Dean. This one wasn’t as rigid. He carried himself with an ease that permeated his every move, and I had a gut feeling the woman behind him was the reason. They weren’t looking at each other or touching at all, but there was something in the way they moved around each other that spoke of more than simple familiarity. No, it went deeper than the bonds of friendship or coworkers. These two were lovers, I was sure of it.

“Well?” Dean had thrown something onto the bed in front of me and was attempting to intimidate me by crossing his arms and looming over me.

“We found that in your bag,” Sam explained. “Where did you get it?” 

My eyes flickered up to where the younger Winchester stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets—no doubt a ploy to appeal to me, make me feel more comfortable talking. It was the brothers’ idea of “Good Cop/ Bad Cop,” and it worked about ninety-eight percent of the time, but I wasn’t just a case. I knew these guys like the back of my hand. Sure they could act all big and bad, but I knew how soft and cuddly they were beneath that rough hunter exterior.

I slowly reached forward and picked up the square of paper. I clenched my jaw as I realized it was the picture Castiel held onto for so long. Tracing a finger over the blurred image of the angel I’d lost, I blinked back a few tears and sniffed once before looking back up at the group of people. 

“It was given to me.”

“By who?” Dean growled.

Jutting my chin out a bit, I stared the man down. “I doubt you’ll believe me, Dean. You’re obviously an alpha male regardless of the universe you happen to live in, and no answer will be good enough because you’ve already decided you don’t trust me.”

He snorted and stepped forward, but the woman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You act like you know him,” she said. Her brown eyes were soft, and she slipped by Dean to sit on the bed, careful to keep several inches between us. “I’m Alex.”

“Melanie, and technically I do know him. Sort of.”

Alex grinned and pushed her bangs back behind her ear. “You realize that doesn’t make a bit of sense, right?”

I couldn’t help it. I grinned back, drawing a laugh from her that instantly put me at ease. “I know it doesn’t,” I admitted, “but it’s the truth.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head to the side. “Care to elaborate?”

I took a deep breath and stared down at the picture in my hands. “I’m not exactly from around here.”

“Well let’s start with that,” Sam said. “Trust me, there’s not a lot we haven’t heard in our line of work.”

I gave him a small smile. I knew exactly how weird their work was. The poor guy just had no idea. “I do, trust you I mean.”

“Why?” 

This time it was the young guy in the corner of the room who spoke, his voice full of honest curiosity. I hadn’t noticed him standing there before, so his voice startled me some, but now that I was able to take in his appearance, I had a pretty good feeling he was Jack, the nephilim Castiel saw more as a kid.

“Because like I said, I know you guys, sort of, and a really good friend of mine said he trusted you. Call me crazy, but I’ll take his word for it.”

“See,” Dean turned around to lean against the wall across from me, his legs crossed at the ankles and arms tight across his chest. I immediately flashed back to that night in the hospital when we didn’t know whether or not Castiel would make it. A shiver rolled down my spine, and the older Winchester narrowed his eyes, taking in every little bit of my body language and picking it apart. “You keep giving us little half answers. I want to know who you are and who sent you. Now.”

“Gabriel,” I blurted out. 

Alex’s eyes hardened. “He’s dead. A battle several months ago.”

I shook my head. “No, no, you don’t understand. Gabriel, my Gabriel, died right before I came here. Lucifer killed him right in front of me, but before that, Gabriel had prepared an emergency exit, I guess you’d call it, for me. He said he’s been here a while back and that I could trust you guys because you’re family. Castiel was supposed to come with me, but—” The tears were rolling now, despite my best efforts to hold them back. I wiped a hasty hand across my cheeks and shook my head rapidly, unable to go on. I wasn’t ready yet, couldn’t discuss what kept playing on a loop behind my eyelids.

“Your Gabriel, huh?” Alex asked quietly. 

I nodded. “He was my best friend. Castiel enlisted his help months ago to protect me, but it was more than that. The guy actually cared about me and the baby, and we got to be pretty close towards the end there.”

“You were lovers?”

I scrunched my nose at Sam. “Gross,” I said. “No. We were friends, but that’s all.” 

“And Cas? How do you know him?” Sam was persistent, I’ll give him that.

I closed my eyes and wiped another stray tear. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” Dean told me. 

I carefully placed the picture on top of the comforter in front of my crossed legs and drew my hands back into my lap. I was massaging deep circles into my right palm with my left thumb and inhaled slowly through my nose. “I’m from an alternate universe. As far as I can tell, it’s pretty similar to this one, but then I haven’t seen much here. The bunker is pretty much the same though. Castiel saved me from a vampire one night after my shift at the diner, and then Lucifer burned down my apartment building and held me captive until Castiel and the Winchesters saved me. It was decided pretty quickly after that I should be brought back to the bunker because the devil was gunning for me and Castiel both. 

“I’d been living with them for about four months when they finally found a way to go save Mary and Jack. Gabriel stayed back with me, and Rowena was supposed to keep Lucifer bound while his grace fueled the spell, but he got out somehow, killed the witch, and went through the rift to Apocalypse world or whatever. Castiel came back alone, but the devil followed him. That’s when Gabriel died and Castiel made me go on ahead of him to this world. He was going to hold Lucifer off, but…”

“Lucifer killed him,” Dean finished for me.

I shrugged. “That’s what he said,” I whispered, my tone defeated.

“And what about us, or the other us, do you know what happened to them?”

“I’m pretty sure they died, too. I don’t know why else Castiel would come back alone, and his body language…He was grieving the last time I saw him.” I stared at his picture in front of me. “There’s no way to know for sure though. The rift closed like right after Lucifer came through. I guess he fixed that, too.”

I had conveniently left out all the parts about Castiel and I being soulmates and about him being the father of my child, but I figured they didn’t need to know all that, and I was hoping I’d given them enough of the truth that they’d leave it alone. Maybe they’d think I was pregnant before Castiel saved me. Everyone was silent for so long that I eventually looked up again just to get a read on their reactions. Dean was still watching me for the most part, but every once in a while his eyes would flicker over to Alex before settling back on me. The woman looked shell-shocked for the most part, but there was something else there, a hint of betrayal maybe, in her eyes. Jack was silent, his brow furrowed as he processed everything I’d said, and Sam, he just tilted his head and blinked at me once.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” he asked suddenly.

I was taken aback and looked down at the brown hoodie I wore. “Uh, yeah,” I told him, pulling it away from my chest. “Gabriel kinda commandeered it when we were getting ready to go. Sorry, do you, um, want it back, or…?” I wasn’t sure exactly what the rules for that were. If something belonged to an alternate version of someone, did that same item belong to every version of that person? 

Sam huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Keep it. I can’t imagine you have many belongings here.”

“You’re right,” I told him, my eyebrows raised. “All I have is what was in my bag. Where is that, by the way?”

Sam looked me right in the eye as he spoke. “We went through it. Currently it’s in the library, but we can move it in here for you.”

“So what now?” I asked.

“We get you something to eat,” Alex said. She stood and held a hand out to help me off the bed. “Come on. I make a killer lasagna.”  
_____________

Castiel hissed as he pushed the needle through his skin and out the other side. He was seated in the back of Dean’s beloved Impala, an empty bottle of cheap whiskey and the first aid kit he kept in the trunk open on the seat beside the angel. Dean would be furious if Castiel got any blood on the pristine leather interior, but the idea of the older Winchester yelling at him actually made the ghost of a smile cross his lips. 

He wasn’t anywhere near drunk, but the liquor did provide a slight buzz that was a start in taking the edge off. Besides, he didn’t need to ingest much if he was going to go through with summoning Billie. Castiel wasn’t an idiot—he knew the new Death didn’t like him, but maybe he could convince her to help him just this once, especially if it meant putting the universe back in order.

Castiel tied the stitches off and clipped the string with blood-slick fingers around a pair of old surgical scissors. He let his shirt fall back into place and rested his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and releasing a long sigh. There was so much he still had left to do, but for now, the angel was going to focus on the memory of that first car ride with Melanie so many months ago. He tried to recall the feel of her head on his lap and the beauty she held, even in sleep. 

That was before he knew he loved her. 

Even then it should have been obvious, but while Castiel had often heard of love and knew that some people loved each other at first sight, he’d never experienced that kind of love and attributed the love at fist sight phenomenon to the work of cupids. He never thought he would actually feel it, not really.

The ache in Castiel’s chest throbbed steadily in time with his heartbeat, and he laid a hand right over the spot, feeling it against his palm. He had to find Melanie. It was the only thing he could focus on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Constructive criticism? Let me know!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

“Al?”

Alex had been furiously scrubbing the kitchen sink when Dean’s tentative voice broke her out of her thoughts. She dropped the steel wool scrubber and squeezed the edge of the sink with both hands. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

She sighed and closed her eyes, hanging her head. “No.”

Dean crossed the room in two quick strides and wrapped his arms around her middle before settling his chin on the woman’s shoulder. He’d just be there for now and let her speak when she was ready. It was something they’d never discussed but quickly realized both needed. Dean had never been one to talk about his feelings, and Alex, while more likely to open up, did better working through them herself before hashing it out with an outside source. So when one of them was dealing with something, the other would hang around offering silent support until they felt comfortable discussing the issue. 

They stayed that way for less than a minute before Alex broke the silence. 

“I just don’t understand it is all,” she huffed, turning in Dean’s arms so she could look up at him. “I thought Gabriel died months ago in the fight against Michael. I mean, we burned his freaking body for Pete’s sake!”

“We don’t know for sure that the guy Melanie talked about was your dad,” Dean reminded her.

“Dude, she said he’d been here ‘a while back’ and that we were—and I quote—‘family.’”

“Please stop with the air quotes. I get enough of that from Cas.”

Alex snorted and buried her face in his t-shirt, gripping the back of his flannel with soapy hands. She inhaled deeply, letting the gunpowder and motor oil scents that always clung to his clothing soothe her. “I just, I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that he left like that to go live somewhere else. It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, we were just starting to build some semblance of a relationship, and he just…” She trailed off, knowing Dean would understand.

The man released his own defeated sigh and gave Alex a squeeze. “He wasn’t exactly known for sticking around, but maybe he left because you didn’t need him anymore.”

“But I wanted him,” Alex mumbled.

“I know, Al.” He planted a kiss in her hair before pulling back with a grin. “So how long ‘til we get something to eat? I’m starving!”

Alex huffed a laugh and smacked Dean’s chest. “You’re awful,” she said.

“What? Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I had a good meal?”

“I seem to remember you scarfing down a shit-ton of pancakes in that diner before our hunt earlier.”

Dean snapped and pointed a finger at her. “Exactly! That was over twelve hours ago. I’m wasting away here…”

Patting the soft layer of fat on Dean’s abdomen, Alex grinned. “Sure you are, sweetie. Just keep telling yourself that.” At Dean’s bitchface, Alex actually laughed. “Doesn’t make a difference though, I just put the lasagna in a few minutes ago, and it still has about an hour to cook. You’re screwed, dude.”

Dean reached forward, placing a hand on each of Alex’s hips. “Nah, I don’t think I am.”

“Oh no?” She couldn’t figure out what his angle was, but she knew he had one.

“Nope,” he said, popping his mouth on the “p.” “See, I get to spend the next hour in here with you instead of with Sam and the kid.” 

“And what do you have planned for that hour?”

He winked down at Alex while reaching over to pop open the door to the fridge. Keeping their eyes locked, Dean rummaged around until he came up with a couple of longnecks. He grinned, and Alex felt the weight on her shoulders lessen some. “Wanna have a drink with me?”

“Sure.” She followed him over to the small table and settled in between Dean and the wall while he cracked the lids on both their beers. Alex took one long pull from hers before leaning her head on his shoulder. “So, do you believe her?”

“Do you?”

Did she? Alex wasn’t sure. She seemed to accept that her dad was the one who sent Melanie to them, but everything else? Killing a Lucifer but not their Lucifer? Dean not only existing but being killed in another world?

“I don’t know,” she murmured.

Dean sighed and let his head lean on top of Alex’s. “Me either. At first it was a no way in hell situation, but now…I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. She’s not exactly the picture of a threat.”

“You’d be surprised what a pregnant woman is capable of, Dean.”

He lifted his head, and Alex looked up at him. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Definitely. They’re moody and hungry and tired, and don’t you dare say or do anything that might be misconstrued as a threat to the safety of her child. She will mess you up.”

Dean blinked and fingered a bead of sweat dripping down his bottle. “Huh.” Alex watched as he took a swallow, seemingly mulling over what she’d told him, and then, “Think we can take her?”

Alex laughed at Dean’s boyish grin. Man, she never did get tired of seeing his eyes crinkle like that when he smiled. “You know, as long as she’s human, I think you stand a chance.”

Dean raised the bottle to his lips again. “Good. Can’t have my reputation getting soiled by a pregnant lady.”  
_____________

This is so weird, I thought after Jack left the room again. Sam had sent him to get my bag from the library, and now the younger Winchester was casually (read: not at all casually) hovering while I unpacked what little I’d come to this world with. 

I shook out and folded each article of clothing as I retrieved it before placing it in the appropriate pile. Pants here, shirts there, socks, shoes, and underwear—much to Sam’s chagrin and my delight. Pro tip? If you’re gonna snoop, make sure you’re okay with seeing everything. If not, just turn around and go away. 

After I’d put my clothes on top of the dresser—not in because I wasn’t sure yet if they’d let me stay—I grabbed my book and the yellow notepad Castiel had so painstakingly prepared for me, running my fingers across his near perfect scrawl. I stacked the book and pad on the dresser as well before reaching back into the bag for the pictures and Castiel’s angel blade. I frowned when I only found my first ultrasound picture and the one of Castiel and the Winchesters. I was sure he packed his blade. I saw it, and there’s no way he’d let me go unarmed…

Without missing a beat, I tucked both pictures beneath the frame on the mirror. My heart gave a little thud when I thought of my child growing up without its father. He would have loved it regardless of whether it was a boy or girl. Castiel would have treated it like the precious soul it is and protected it with his life. He did though, didn’t he? He gave his life so we could escape…

Flipping the bag upside down and shaking it out, I kept my eyes on my work before calling out. “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s my angel blade?”

My voice was light, but you could have heard a pin drop when I turned cold eyes on the six-foot-four hunter. He didn’t waiver, I’ll give him that, but his fingers twitched slightly, and that was when I knew he was hiding something from me. 

“Safe,” he replied after what felt like an eternal standoff. “Until we know for sure you can be trusted, we’ve got it in storage.”

“Sam,” my voice was stern as I slowly stepped towards him, “I want it back. Don’t play games with me, alright? Where is it?”

His hazel eyes hardened. “Like I said, it’s safe.”

He was a fraction of a second too late to catch me as I sprinted through the door.

I didn’t make it far before I felt Sam closing in on me, not that I expected to. He was thirty-five, in good shape, and had about seven inches on my pregnant self, but I was smart, and the Winchesters had fine tuned my training over the last few months. I threw myself around the corner at the end of the hall and immediately hit the floor, curling into a tight ball and protecting my belly with my limbs. As expected, Sam hit me full force and tripped, flying onto his face with a curse. Right after his feet cleared my head, I jumped up and took off in the other direction, not bothering to make sure Sam was okay.

“Dean!”

Sam’s strained voice didn’t bode well for me, but hell, it’d get the older Winchester out here a little quicker, so whatever. Sure enough, when I flew into the library, Dean was stalking in from the kitchen, his gun drawn. When those green eyes landed on me, the gun wasn’t far behind, but I just didn’t care at that point.

“All right you insufferable ass!” I screamed while slowing to a brisk walk. “Where is it?”

Dean cocked his gun and planted his feet, preparing for a fight. Briefly I wondered where Alex and Jack were, but I didn’t have time to worry about them. “Where’s what?”

“The angel blade,” I growled. “Give it back.” My voice broke on the last word, but I clenched my fists and raised my chin, refusing to back down as I came to a stop in front of him.

He shook his head slightly. “No can do, sweetheart.”

Ooh, I was gonna deck him for that one.

Dean craned his head as someone came huffing into the room behind me. “What happened to you?”

“She tripped me,” Sam grunted.

Dean’s eyes flicked back to mine, and I shrugged. “Work smarter not harder, right? Now where is it?”

“You’re not getting it back.”

“The hell you say! It’s mine!”

“And I said no!

“Screw you, Dean!”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and he looked like he was about to say something else when another voice cut through our argument.

“Sam, Dean? What’s going on?”

My stomach didn’t just drop, it plummeted to the ground and buried itself six feet deep. I was completely frozen, my mind totally blank save for the face that would forever haunt me. I should have expected it to come to this, but I hadn’t really prepared for it. How could I? It was impossible.

His footsteps echoed across the floor towards me as my eyes fell shut. I felt more than heard him come to a stop beside Dean and I—the result of my senses becoming fine tuned to this one being. His eyes were on me, I just knew it, and I bit my lip to keep from imagining that little head tilt he always did when he didn’t understand something. I would not picture the incredible blue of his eyes or the mess of raven hair on his head. I wouldn’t, couldn’t handle it.

“Is she alright?”

There it was again, that deep rumble that could bring me to my knees. I couldn’t help myself, I had to do it. Very slowly I opened my eyes and choked on the breath I’d been holding.

“Oh my God…”

“No, I’m Castiel.”

And I passed out.  
_____________

“No, Castiel.”

“The angel ground his teeth together, trying to keep a level head and not stab her just on principle. “Give me one good reason.”

Billie folded her arms across her chest. “What’s done cannot be undone. Your brother is dead, and I will not be bringing him back.” She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Frankly I’m surprised at you. I expected you to bargain for the Winchesters’ lives, not Gabriel’s.”

“I would, but…” He trailed off as the guilt bubbled up and threatened to overwhelm him, but Castiel swallowed it down and met Billie’s gaze. “I have to try and save Melanie from Lucifer.”

“Your priorities have shifted.” They both knew it wasn’t a question. Melanie had forever changed something in Castiel.

“Perhaps, but I think Sam and Dean would understand.”

“And Jack?” Billie asked as she narrowed her eyes.

Ah yes, another metaphorical knife in his chest. “He was too pure for this world to begin with. Heaven is a far better place for him for now. As long as Lucifer exists, Jack will be in danger, and he won’t know true happiness.”

“Some would say the freedom of life far outweighs any good that death can bring.”

“Says Death herself.”

“I think Dean Winchester would agree, don’t you?” 

Castiel clenched his fists while a gentle breeze played with the ends of his torn and bloodied trench coat. Billie was going to make this as difficult as possible, but if he could just make her see, make her understand! But then, how was he supposed to tell her he needed Gabriel’s grace for the spell to be successful? How could he word it so that it didn’t sound as horrible as it did in his mind?

“You just want his grace, don’t you?” Castiel sighed and looked away. Of course she saw right through him. That’s why she was the most appropriate replacement for the original Death. He, too, had a way of seeing past the airs people put on. “The answer is still no.”

“I’m going to find a way,” Castiel swore.

“Maybe,” Billie said, “but this isn’t the right path.”

The angel just stared at her for a moment before turning on his heel and striding for the impala. He had found himself unable to leave it behind at the bunker and decided to drive it out here to this deserted back road. Funny, summoning Death felt almost like making a demon deal, but Castiel had gone through with it because he hadn’t known what else to do. Now it seemed he was at another loss.

“The red haired witch will be killed by Sam Winchester,” Billie called as Castiel opened the door. He froze with his hand still on the handle and looked back with a furrowed brow, but she just gave him a knowing smile. Castiel nodded once in thanks and climbed behind the wheel. He started the car, his eyes never leaving the black-clad woman on the other side of the windshield, and peeled out, gunning the engine as he headed back to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

“Is she alright?” Castiel asked Dean in a hushed tone. The dark haired woman released something akin to a whimper, drawing both men’s attention back to her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was biting her bottom lip so hard the angel worried she’d break the skin. He was beginning to wonder about her sanity, but then human emotions were strange, especially when they carried a child. He thought back to his time with Kelly Kline…Yes, humans were exceedingly strange when pregnant. 

The mystery woman finally opened her eyes—blue, Castiel noticed. They were a strikingly clear shade of blue that seemed to bore right into his very being when they found his face. “Oh my God,” she breathed.

“No, I’m Castiel.” He furrowed his brows and began to ask who she was and why she was in a screaming match with Dean, but then her breath stuttered, and those crystal eyes rolled back into her head as she slumped to the floor. Castiel’s arms shot out to catch her before she could hit the stone surface. “Who is she?” he asked Dean while shifting the woman’s weight so he could cradle her against his chest. 

Dean sighed and tucked his gun away before wiping a hand down his face. “She’s the reason I called you earlier. She just showed up a few hours ago, and Lucifer was about to beat her to death, but Jack and Al took care of him.”

“Lucifer was here? In the bunker?” Castiel was on edge, his eyes wide and flicking all over the place until they landed on the decimated remains of shelving on the far side of the room. There was a fresh stain marring the floor in a large pool as well as specks of blood on a few of the books. “Did he do that?”

Dean nodded, his face grave. “Al healed her, but Cas, she said your name before passing out.”

“And she claims to be from a different universe,” Sam added from his chair. He’d stayed silent for most of the exchange, but Castiel attributed that to the injured ankle he was currently nursing. “She even has a picture of us three that she says was given to her. I’ve never seen it before though.”

Castiel frowned down at the woman in his arms. Who was she really? “What’s her name?” he asked quietly.

“Melanie,” Dean answered, “but at this point, I don’t know whether or not I believe anything she says. She was spouting off a bunch of other crap about you enlisting Gabriel’s help in protecting her, and Gabriel is who opened up the door so she could get here.”

“Gabriel’s alive?” Castiel’s heart was pounding. He’d felt guilty about his brother dying so soon after “coming back from the dead” and wanted nothing more than to reconnect. Of all the angels, Castiel felt like Gabriel understood humanity the best. Perhaps that’s why they got along so well. Despite his constant need to play tricks, Gabriel was a rebel, intent on siding with humanity over his own family.

“No.” 

Castiel turned to see Alex leaning against the doorway leading into the hall, Jack right beside her. She’d met him in the garage when he arrived, but Jack had somehow convinced her they needed ice cream to go with the meal she had prepared, so he flew her to the store instead of accompanying Castiel to find the brothers. Her face was blank, but there was a sadness in her eyes that only showed when she dealt with one of the many losses she had suffered in her short life.

“Melanie said he died, and then Castiel sacrificed himself so that she could escape.” She toed at a scuff on the floor before meeting his eyes and shrugging. “Somehow Lucifer got through anyway though.”

The angel looked heavenward and sighed. So much death…when would it end? Their numbers were not limitless, but recently things had become especially strained, and yet, it didn’t matter what universe Lucifer was in. He continued to destroy with no regard for life of any kind. “Is she staying anywhere?”

“Alex’s old room,” Jack supplied lightly. 

Castiel gave him a soft smile and nodded once. “Thank you, Jack. I’m going to put her to bed. Her body has suffered an extreme amount of trauma today that is unhealthy for the baby.”

“But Al healed her,” Dean said. “She should be fine, right?”

“Not necessarily. The mental trauma from such injuries still stresses the infant and may have negative consequences as a result. It’s best that she gets plenty of rest and maintains adequate hydration over the next few days just to be safe.” 

Castiel carried the woman—Melanie, he reminded himself—from the room, trying and failing to push down the growing warmth in his chest that appeared whenever he glanced down at her. There was something there, but the angel didn’t understand it, couldn’t identify the source, and it was making him uneasy. No one had ever affected him like this before. Perhaps it was something in the chemical makeup of beings from her universe, and she had this effect on everyone. He’d have to ask Dean later.

Just then, Melanie came to a bit, though she never actually opened her eyes. She inhaled deeply before releasing it with a sigh and twisted the lapel of Castiel’s coat in her fist. “Wish this was real,” she mumbled.

“It depends on your definition of real,” Castiel replied easily. “People perceive reality in their own way, therefore everyone’s reality is personalized and different from everyone else’s. What’s real for you may not be the same as what is real for me. This phenomenon can best be illustrated by a mentally ill person who has delusions. Sam experienced this to great length after he got his soul back from Hell.”

“Mmm. I love the way you explain things.”

“I’ve been told I get off topic easily.” Melanie huffed a tiny laugh at that and snuggled in closer, her nose grazing the hollow below Castiel’s jaw. He swallowed hard at the unexpected contact and shifter her so that her breath was no longer tickling his skin with every exhale.

Castiel slowed and pushed open the door to what would now be Melanie’s room with his shoulder before carrying her over to the bed. The woman clung to his body though, and Castiel had to actually pry her hand loose from his coat. He finally got her on the bed and was just tucking the old quilt around her body when a pale hand shot out and grabbed his collar. Castiel froze, unsure of what exactly she was doing, and then her hand slid down to cup his face.

“Miss you,” she murmured.

“Why?” He was right there after all. What reason would she…oh. She was speaking of his other self, the one from her world.

Melanie’s face pinched with pain before she sighed and let her hand drop back to the bed. “I love you, Castiel.”

His already large eyes widened comically as he backed away, giving her a last once over for injuries. He paused as he examined the fetus. It had a bright, white spot on its soul that was not dissimilar to his own grace. Impossible, Castiel thought. If it was a nephilim, grace would take up more of its soul, nearly consuming the thing with power instead of just leaving a trace. Castiel frowned and was about to leave when his eyes fell on something else. He glanced back at where Melanie was now sleeping soundly before quietly moving over to the mirror to get a better look.

“Impossible,” he said aloud this time. Castiel turned on his heel and briskly headed back to the library. He had some questions that required immediate answers. “Dean!” he called as he entered the now empty room. He spun nervously for a moment, his hands twitching at his sides.

“Kitchen!” came the reply after a moment.

Castiel blew into the room right as Dean shoveled a rather large bite of lasagna into his mouth. “Dean, I need to speak with you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows but was unable to speak, so Sam, taking in the angel’s obviously disturbed expression, spoke up first. “What’s up, Cas?”

“I need to know who the father of Melanie’s child is.”

Sam furrowed his brows while Dean and Alex exchanged shrugs. “We don’t know,” Dean answered honestly. “She never said.”

Castiel braced his hands on the table in front of his friend and leaned over, his face creased with concern. Dean couldn’t help but sit up straighter, his face turning away a little as Castiel closed in on his space. “Dean,” the angel said seriously, “I have reason to believe that I am the father.”

Sam choked and sputtered on his beer while Jack patted him on the back, and Alex tried and failed to hold back a smile. “You can’t be serious,” Alex told him.

Dean, on the other hand, looked pissed. “Man, I told you to use protection! What the hell, huh?”

“No, I don’t mean myself,” Castiel explained. “I’m talking about my other self. I believe Melanie had relations with the Castiel from her universe.” He slapped the ultrasound picture onto the table. “Look.”

They all crowded around the image, though Alex was the first one to meet his eyes. “Cas, why is your vessel’s name on this?”

“It’s not just that,” Castiel told her. “The child has a portion of my grace that shows through in the image.”

“So you’re saying the kid’s a nephilim?” Dean asked.

“No, there’s not enough grace for that, and we would feel the power radiating from Melanie if it were, but there is a trace amount of grace wrapped around its soul.”

Alex pushed her hair back away from her face. “A protective barrier,” she murmured.

Castiel nodded. “I’m afraid we must ask her more about her history.” Sam started for the door, but was held back by the sleeve. “I assure you it can wait until morning,” the angel said.

Dean stood as well. “Cas, we need to—”

“She needs rest, Dean. Or did you forget that she is a pregnant woman who has lost everyone she loves and was nearly killed only to be saved and then treated like a prisoner?”

Dean swallowed and looked down at Alex beside him. “Whatever man, but we’re getting answers first thing tomorrow.”  
_____________

Castiel cut the impala’s engine and exited the car quietly, dropping the archangel blade from his sleeve as he did. He creeped down the hall, straining his ears for any signs of life. He finally locked in on it and headed for the library. As he approached, the angel slowed and pressed himself against the wall. Someone was rummaging around in the next room and muttering curses under their breath. Now, he thought to himself and charged around the corner.

The angel was met by a series of small knives being thrown his direction, and while they didn’t penetrate his skin, they did pierce the long tail of his coat, pinning him to the wall. “Rowena!” Castiel bellowed when he realized he couldn’t pull free.

The witch eyed him warily, another blade grasped tightly in her hand. “What do you want with me, angel? I did my part, and look where it got me!”

“Release me,” he ordered, but her eyes didn’t waver.

“I’ll release you when I am good and ready, not a minute sooner.”

He held her stare for another minute before relaxing and stowing his blade. She was afraid—rightfully so, in his opinion—so Castiel would need to approach this with a bit more sensitivity. Rowena narrowed her eyes at him when he moved but finally went about her business. She was digging through the Men of Letters library searching for something. Her clothes were tattered and bloodstained, and she still had a large amount of swelling across her jaw as well as a busted lip, but she was up and around. That in and of itself was astounding.

“We thought you were dead,” Castiel said after a while.

“I wasn’t dead,” Rowena replied harshly. “Not really.”

“How did you survive?”

The question made her stop, and Rowena straightened over the book in her hands. “A spell. I’ve used it before and will again, I assume, but I must recharge it first.” She huffed a dramatic sigh and slammed the book closed before reaching for another on the shelf.

“Does it normally take so long to repair the damage?”

“No,” she said slowly, “but that’s because I had to improvise last time. Now, do you have anymore questions, or can I get on with my search?”

Castiel’s brows pulled together as he fell back against the wall. “Just one, Rowena.”

The witch stretched her neck to both sides before rubbing it with one hand. “What now?”

“I need your help.”


	5. Chapter 5

When I woke up, the dark room gave nothing away as to what woke me or the time of day. I was sweating, and my chest heaved with each breath, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember my dream. It was something terrible though, if my body was anything to go by. Raising a shaking hand to my forehead, I pushed a few curls from my eyes and laid there for a minute to compose myself before I went in search of coffee, and briefly I wondered why, if it had been another nightmare, neither Castiel or Gabe had shown up. 

Disoriented and groaning, but needing answers all the same, I stumbled out of bed and into the hall where the light just about blinded me. God really must have been looking out for me because miraculously I made it to the library without injury and followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen. It was empty and silent save for the rumble of the coffee maker, but someone must have started it, so I couldn’t be totally alone, right? I wiped a hand down my face before shuffling over to grab a cup and froze.

My outstretched arm is what gave it away.

I splayed my fingers wide and turned my wrist this way and that, taking in the brown sleeve of Sam’s worn sweatshirt as the memories came flooding back. I hadn’t had it before Castiel left, before they captured Lucifer and brought him to the bunker, before Rowena and the boys had died, before Gabriel, before, before, before…

A sob tore from my lips faster than I could slap a hand across my mouth to stop it, and slowly I sunk down until I was sitting cross-legged on the floor with my back and head against the wall. It wasn’t just a dream then. It wasn’t just another nightmare that could be washed away with whispered words of affection and smooth, gentle caresses. Castiel—my Castiel—was gone, and the only piece of the small family I’d gained was curled inside my belly, though he or she would never know the heroes who died to save us. The only thing that remained of our ragtag group was stories that would eventually fade.

“Melanie?”

His voice was soft and hesitant as he crouched in front of me, and I know he wasn’t actually my angel, but he was the closest thing I had, and I couldn’t help myself when I reached out and gripped his large hand where it rested on my knee. I wanted to apologize for the scene, to “dry up” as my old man used to say, but I just couldn’t stay the river of tears that seemed never ending. I couldn’t say anything at all, so I just stared at the mirror image of who I really needed and continued to shake.

The Castiel in front of me pressed his lips into a line before sliding in beside me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and held me awkwardly at first, but as my crying continued he tightened his hold so that I was curled against his side. It amazed me how well I still fit there. It seemed that regardless of the universe, we were still made for each other. This Castiel still radiated warmth and kindness while a ferocity bubbled just below the surface. They were so similar, but the difference came when I looked him in the eyes. He didn’t look at me the way mine did, and that’s why the amount of comfort I drew from the being beside me was limited. He wasn’t my Castiel, not really.

“’M sorry,” I mumbled after my sobs had turned to hiccups, and the hiccups filtered out into silence. 

“For what?” God, his voice still did that deep rumbling thing in his chest that drove me crazy.

I shrugged. “Falling apart, acting like a lunatic, take your pick.”

He was silent for a moment—choosing his words carefully, I knew. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Melanie.”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” I breathed into his jacket.

Castiel slowly lifted a hand to my hair and stroked it a few times. “You’ve endured a lot in the last few days. It’s understandable that you feel this way, but I assure you that isn’t the case.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” I admitted, snuggling in closer. He even smelled like the same mixture of salt water and fresh rain. It was oddly comforting while still maintaining a huge sense of wrong. Everything was just so similar to my angel…

“You carry on,” Castiel murmured. “You’ve got a little one to think of now, so giving up isn’t an option.” His words made me start crying all over again, and the angel tensed up beneath me. “Melanie? I’m sorry, I—I’m not sure what I should be doing here.” He used the hand in my hair to hold me tighter to his chest, and I could faintly make out the beat of his heart around my own sobs. It was just another knife in my chest, twisting with each steady thump.  
Castiel held me for what felt like hours there on the kitchen floor, and I was basically in his lap by the time he gave me a small nudge. “You want to get some coffee?” he asked as I wiped at my eyes. “I made it earlier before going out to get ingredients for breakfast. We were running a bit low…”

“Yeah, okay.” Castiel—I really needed to find some other nickname for him because it was already hard enough to keep him separate from my own angel—stood before turning and extending a hand to me. I took it gratefully and let him haul me to my feet. The result was me meeting him chest to chest, and my face immediately fell while I stepped back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. For what, I really didn’t know, but being near him like that just felt wrong. I’d crossed a line allowing him to comfort me before. It’s not like I could just replace my Castiel with this one. That’s not how it works. 

Cas—yeah, I could use Dean’s nickname for him to keep them separate—tilted his head while his brows furrowed. We just kinda stood there for a few seconds before Cas nodded to himself and grabbed two cups from the shelf over my shoulder. It was eerie how similar the action was to when my Castiel did that the night we met, and I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t actually back in my apartment all those months ago. He filled first one mug, but then he paused at the other and glanced at me. “I don’t know how you take it,” he admitted.

“Um, creamer and honey if you have it, but black is fine if you don’t.”

Those blue eyes pinned me with their gaze. “You like honey in your coffee?”

I nodded. “Sugar is too…grainy.”

Cas hummed, the corners of his mouth lifting in that barely there smile I loved so much while reaching into a cabinet. “Well,” he announced, “you’re in luck. Alex keeps us well stocked with flavored creamer, and I happen to have an affinity for honey, so you should be set.” The smile slipped from his face when I didn’t say anything, and he turned to me. “You already knew that, though, didn’t you?”

I looked down at my hands which were now clasped tightly together as I fought not to do the thumb thing. “I knew about the honey. Castiel really enjoyed bees, and I liked listening to him talk about something he was passionate about. He was actually pretty intent on figuring out how to save them.” I grinned a little at the memory of watching his eyes light up whenever bees were worked into a conversation. It was like a little bit of sunshine struck his features, dazzling me each time. 

“And the creamer?”

I shook my head as Cas pulled me from the onslaught of images flashing through my mind. “Um, Alex wasn’t around in my world. I don’t really know why, but, uh, yeah. No creamer."

Cas hummed again and went about putting away the few groceries he’d picked up that morning. He didn’t say anything, just bustled about the kitchen while I stayed rooted to the spot watching him. Dean shuffled in as Cas started mixing up pancake batter, and the hunter blinked down at me in surprise before reaching for the coffee and filling the empty mug still on the counter. 

“Morning,” he greeted me while gingerly pushing the mug into my hands.

“Good morning to you, too. Thanks for the, uh, yeah,” I said, stumbling over my words. My brain was so not awake at this point. Spending so much time alone with the angel had definitely done a number on me.

“No problem.” Dean filled his own cup and blew on it before taking a healthy sip. “How’d you sleep? I mean, it’s home, but it’s not really home, you know?”

I huffed the ghost of a laugh while my eyes stayed on the angel across the room. “Yeah. It was…interesting. I have a habit of getting nightmares, so I’ll go ahead and apologize if I woke you up at all.”

Dean waved off my reply. “No, it’s fine. I totally get it.” He paused, mulling over his next words. “Mind if I ask what they’re about?”

I looked up at him curiously. “Why would you possibly want to know that?”

He shrugged. “I just want to understand you a little better. Figured dreams are a good place to start.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

He bumped my shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Lucifer, mostly. He put me through a lot of torture—physical and mental—and he almost killed Castiel, stabbed him right in front of me…” I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and stared down into my coffee. “The crazy thing is that I saw it happen about a hundred times before it actually did.”

“What do you mean, ‘you saw it?’”

I rolled my eyes at the skepticism coming off him in waves. “Don’t act so righteous, Dean. I know all about Sam’s visions, okay? It’s not like those, it’s…different.”

The Winchester scoffed. “Different how?”

“Different in that I didn’t get them from demon blood, you prick.” I sighed and set my cup on the counter with a little more force than was strictly necessary, and a little bit of it sloshed out. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “It’s just that I’ve already had this conversation with you, and you acted about as nicely as you are now. You really hated me at the beginning, but then we got to a place where we were kinda okay. Not friends, really, but we were working on it, and now I have to start all over again. It’s annoying as shit.” Cas had come over during my rant and silently extended a hand towel in my direction. I took it with a sad attempt at a smile and used it to wipe up the coffee. I started to wad it up, but Cas’s hand covering mine had me freezing up. He retrieved the towel and exited the room silently, no doubt on his way to the laundry room, and I watched him go.

“You planning on starting over with him, too?”

Dean’s rough voice snapped me from the trance I was in. “What?”

He nodded towards the door. “You think no one has noticed how you look at Cas? C’mon, Mel, you’ve gotta know we’re smarter than that. You literally fainted the first time you saw him.”

“I didn’t, I mean, it’s not—”

“Save it, okay? I know what it looks like when someone’s got it bad, but the real question is, did your Cas feel the same way?”

I bit my lower lip and wrapped my arms around my middle. “We were soulmates,” I whispered. “Like actual, bonded together, made for each other, soulmates.” At Dean’s incredulous face, I shrugged. “Remember the Titanic? Well Fate decided to get her revenge by going back in time and mixing his grace with my soul and giving us each half. She gave us just enough time to fall in love before making Lucifer stab him in the chest. Of course, Castiel wasn’t supposed to survive that one.”

Dean’s jaw ticked, but he made no other move and gave nothing else away. “And the kid?”

I swiped at a tear on my cheek while looking away. “It’s his.” Dean inhaled sharply and put a hand on his waist while wiping the other down his face. “Look, you can’t tell him, okay? Please don’t tell him. He’d feel responsible, and I don’t want to push him into anything. It’s hard enough just being around him, so you can’t, Dean. I’m begging you. Please?”

Dean clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything. Instead, it was the angel behind me that broke the silence. “I had my suspicions already, but I’m glad to have them confirmed.”

I groaned and turned to face him, flinching back a little at his weary expression. “Look, you don’t have to—”

Cas held up a hand, and I went silent. “How about we take a walk?”  
_____________

Rowena glared at the angel, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said. “You really believe I’ll help you after everything that just happened?!”

“I don’t have many options, Rowena,” Castiel replied, “and believe me, you weren’t my first choice.” He attempted to cross his arms over his chest and sighed when his jacket prevented him from completing the action. “Will you please remove the knives now?”

“Not a fan of my warding methods, eh?” She leaned forward and stage whispered, “Shouldn’t have worn the long coat then!”

“Noted,” Castiel all but growled. He was already getting frustrated with the witch, but Billie had led him here for a reason, so Rowena must be able to help. “Lucifer followed Melanie through the rift before I could stop him. I’m not asking you to come with me. I simply need your assistance opening another one so I can get through.”

“And what? Stay here until the devil comes back? Are you insane?!”

Castiel shook his head. “You can leave as soon as I make it across. You don’t have to stay here for anything.”

She narrowed her eyes and stepped around the table, taking slow, deliberate steps until she was less than a foot away. Castiel held her scrutinizing gaze, his blue eyes never wavering until she spoke. “You aren’t coming back, are you?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Heaven is almost gone,” he explained quietly, “and Hell is in disarray without a leader. My family is dead, and I cannot bring them back from the Empty. The only thing I have left to live for is currently in another universe running for her life. Castiel licked his bottom lip quickly. “There’s nothing left for us here, but Gabriel thought that other world was safe enough for Melanie alone, so it has to be good enough to stay and try to build a life.”

Rowena’s face softened, and she reached forward to pull a knife from the wall, releasing a portion of Castiel’s coat in the process. “I’ll help you find her,” she murmured, “but first you have to get rid of that wretched trench coat.”

The angel frowned, running his hands down the front of his clothes. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with my jacket?”

Rowena pulled another knife free and smiled up at him. “Ya look like a pedophile, dear. Now how about we get you some real clothes, hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Comments? Varying degrees of opinion? Let me hear them! I'm having a ton of fun writing this story, so I really hope you guys are enjoying reading it.
> 
> Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

Alex pressed herself further into the shadows as Cas guided the new girl up the staircase and out the door. She wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not, but Cas could take care of himself—at least, he could in a physical fight. This was something totally different, though, and she wasn’t sure if he was prepared for the emotional onslaught that was heading his way. 

“You can come out now.”

She grinned and slipped around the corner. “How did you know?” she asked while approaching Dean. 

He inhaled deeply before slipping his arms around her waist. “You were already awake when I got up, and I figured you’d get curious pretty soon. So,” Dean quirked an eyebrow at her, “hear anything interesting?”

“You mean like Cas being a dad?” Alex replied dryly. “Uh, yeah!”

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “Can you believe that? I mean, if anyone was gonna show up with an illegitimate kid, I figured it’d be me, you know?” Alex snorted, and he looked back down at her. “I’m being serious here, Al. Sam rarely gets any, and Cas has slept with what? One chic? And then this happens?”

“Well, technically the kid doesn’t belong to our Cas.”

“C’mon. Do you really think he’s just gonna let her be on her merry way?”

Alex pursed her lips and looked back towards the library. “No,” she said quietly, “but it doesn’t seem like Melanie is going to force anything on him either. She’s too…I don’t know. Soft? There doesn’t seem to be a mean bone in her body, Dean.” 

“Did you not see what all she was packing? I think she knows more than she’s letting on.”

“Just enough to be dangerous,” Alex mumbled. She had no doubt the woman could defend herself—living with the Winchesters pretty much guaranteed a crash course in self-defense—but she didn’t seem like the type to go out looking for a fight either. “Where’d you stash the blade?”

Dean smirked and turned around. He reached up above the rack the pots and pans hung from—and Alex did NOT check out his ass as he did so—and came down with the angel blade. Tapping the point lightly against his left palm, he said, “Hiding in plain sight. The metal looks a lot like stainless, so even if she caught a glimpse of it, she’d probably look right over it.”

“Okay, but what’s to stop her from just grabbing any one of the other weapons stashed around the bunker? She’s gotta know where at least some of them are.”

Dean stared off into space while he considered it. “Maybe we can get her out of here long enough to move them around some. You could take her into town for some shopping or something while Sammy and I get to work, but it could take a while. Of course, if you took the kid along, too, you guys could see a movie…”

“Dean?” Alex gave him a soft smile when he met her eyes. “Calm down, okay? I really don’t think she’s a threat to us.”

“Al, we don’t even know her.”

“Don’t we?” She cupped his face in her hands. “Some version of you guys trusted her enough to take her in, so obviously, somewhere deep down, you know she’s gotta be good people.”

Dean looked away again, his jaw ticking. “Yeah, maybe.” 

“But?”

He sighed and tipped his head forward to rest against hers. “I don’t want something to happen to the people I care about because I let some stranger in the door.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean. You know that.”

Alex felt his thumb brush slowly across her lower lip before his mouth covered hers in a gentle kiss. It started out innocently enough: a barely there brush of Dean’s lips on hers, the gentle pressure of his hands on either side of her face. Then it became more. Dean’s tongue darted out to sweep over the seam of Alex’s mouth as his fingers threaded in her hair. She opened for him willingly, giving up whatever the man in front of her needed in order to be okay.

Alex whimpered at the first taste of him, all coffee, the lingering mint of his toothpaste, and something so incredibly Dean that set fire to her body. Every touch was amplified, and she couldn’t help the way she fisted his shirt at his waist before her hands slid around and up his toned back. Dean slipped his hands down to her thighs and hoisted her up onto the counter top behind her. Alex pulled him into the space between her legs, locking her heels around him, and Dean groaned deep in his chest when his half hard dick made contact with her core. 

“You planning on making good on your promise from last night?” Alex asked breathlessly as Dean worked his way along her jaw. He stopped his hot breath rushing over her ear with every exhale. 

“Do you still want me to?” Dean’s teeth captured her earlobe, scraping and pulling gently before he pulled back to look her in the eye. 

“God, yes.”

“Here?”

Alex’s heart pounded against her ribcage, the thought of getting caught all at once terrifying and exciting. “What about the others? They could—”

Dean cut her off with another kiss. “Screw ‘em. I don’t care if they hear us,” he muttered. She shivered as his hand slid up her thigh and under the leg of her shorts.

“But what if they walk in?”

Dean winked at her, knowing she was just playing now. “They’ll either leave or get a show. I’ve wanted you ever since you took out that vamp yesterday, and I’ll be damned if we get interrupted again.” Alex threw her head back with a laugh as Dean attacked her neck, biting and licking and sucking while his fingers skirted closer to her center. The back of his knuckles grazed her naked core, and his forehead landed on her shoulder. “Son of a bitch. Are you trying to kill me, woman?”

“Nope,” she replied, popping the “p.” “I just figured there was a tiny chance of finishing what we started last night, so I came prep—ah!”

Dean sank a finger into her, curling it just right as he dragged it out before pumping it right back in. Alex clung to his broad shoulders and tried to stay quiet, but then he added another finger, and she got lost in the sensation, crying out again and again as he hit that sweet spot. Dean covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her sounds. He twisted his wrist, and suddenly his thumb was circling her clit while his fingers pressed insistently inside her.

“Need you, Al,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “But you’ve gotta come for me first.”

“Dean, please.” She was barely hanging on as it was, but his voice—his damned sex-laden, whiskey-soaked, smooth as honey voice—was gonna kill her for sure. 

He tutted quietly. “Not until you come, sweetheart. I wanna feel you unravel, and then I’m gonna take you right here, fill you up so good and make you scream for me.” Alex released a broken moan, and Dean resumed his thrusting, pistoning his fingers in and out of her faster than before.

“Oh, oh God.” Alex could feel her body tightening around him, so close to the edge she could taste it. 

“That’s it, Al. Just a little more. C’mon, babe, give it to me. Let me hear you make those pretty sounds.”

“Dean!” She came hard around him, slumping forward and gripping his t-shirt while she fought to catch her breath. “Jesus, dude.”

Dean huffed a laugh and kissed the top of her hair. “Ready for more?”

Alex grinned as a plan started forming in her mind. She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him hard. “Hell yes.”

She hopped down and pushed Dean’s sweatpants and boxer briefs down to his thighs. His thick cock bobbed proudly up towards his abdomen, and she wrapped a hand around it, drinking in the sounds Dean made while she started jacking him off. Alex dropped to her knees and took him all the way into her mouth, relaxing and swallowing hard when the tip nudged the back of her throat. Dean gripped her hair in one hand, and she looked up to see his eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back while she slowly pulled back, hollowing her cheeks and then dipping her tongue into the slit at the tip.

“Al.” He said her name like a prayer, and his other hand came down to brush lightly over her jaw as she bobbed up and down his length. It was a silent question, a wordless plea, and when those green eyes met hers, Alex nodded once, relaxing herself further in preparation for what was coming.

Dean gripped her hair in both hands, holding her still, and with a final suck on the head of his dick, Alex watched him let go.

He started slow, using short, quick strokes, but pretty soon they deepened, and Dean was crying out with every brush against her throat. Alex stared up at him through it all, taking in every twitch, every shudder, and moaning at the feeling of him swelling inside her.

“Al…” A plea.

“Al.” A warning.

“Al!”

He tried to pull out, but Alex gripped his hips and buried her nose in the wiry hair at the base of his cock, swallowing until Dean stopped jerking. He was panting, one hand braced on the counter above her, and she finished cleaning him up before righting his clothing and popping up to kiss him quickly.

“Why’d you keep going?” Dean asked. “You didn’t have to finish me off. I, I was gonna—”

“I know,” Alex grinned, “but I wanted to.”

Dean stared heavy-lidded at her, his eyes unbelievably tender, and his thumb brushed at her cheekbone. “I love you, Al.”

She just grinned back, leaning into his touch. “I love you, too. So much, Dean.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “How the hell did I get so lucky, huh?”

“It’s not luck, Dean. You’re a good man, and you deserve good things.” Alex heard Dean scoff, so she whacked him on the shoulder. “You know, one of these days you’re gonna believe me!”

He jumped back, rubbing his shoulder with a smirk. “I doubt that, sweetheart.”  
_____________

“So that’s everything,” I said, letting my hands slap against my thighs. We were seated on some rocks at the edge of the water. I don’t know how we really ended up there. He started asking me questions, and eventually I just kinda told him the whole story while we wandered through the woods. It wasn’t until I heard the rush of the waterfall that I even knew where I was headed.

Cas stared down at his hands and hummed quietly. “You really loved him, didn’t you?”

I nodded, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. “Still do,” I managed.

“And…this?” Cas waved a hand at the space between us, a question in his eyes.

“It sucks,” I admitted. “Seeing you, and talking like this, here of all places, it hurts so much. When I first realized he was gone, it was like somebody ripped my heart out. I felt so alone and just…hollow. It was all I could do to function. And then when I heard your voice…” I trailed off, looking for the right words. “It’s like he’s here, but I can’t have him, and that’s kinda worse somehow because I don’t get any closure. You’re always right there, ya know?”

“I…Yes. I can see how that would be difficult. I can leave if it would make you more comfortable.”

I snorted. “Don’t be stupid, Cas. This is your home. If anyone should go, it should be me.”

Cas took my hand, and I tensed up. It was so warm, so right, but there was an underlying sense of wrong that had me pulling away. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and frowned. “You belong here, too,” he said slowly. “You may still be in danger, and this is the safest place for you.”

“Lucifer is dead.”

“Yes, yours is, but ours is not, and I’m sure there are a number of beings that would enjoy getting their hands on your child.”

I crossed my arms. He had me there. “What if the others don’t want me here?” I asked while watching a leaf float downstream. 

“I think they’re more open to it than you might suspect.” He peered down at me out of the corner of his eye and nudged my shoulder with his. “Alex and Jack like you, and Sam seems to be warming up as well.”

“That doesn’t mean they want me living with them,” I pointed out.

Cas hummed again, and we went back to watching the water silently.  
_____________

Castiel frowned at his reflection, turning this way and that to get a better look. “This is extremely uncomfortable,” he called out to Rowena on the other side of the door. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Yes, well you’ll look fine, I promise. Come on out so I can have a little look see, eh?”

Castiel grumbled a bit but turned the knob, opening the door wide before stepping out. Both Rowena and a woman waiting for an open dressing room inhaled sharply. He raised his eyebrows. “See? This is stupid.”

Rowena’s hand fluttered to her chest, and she stood slowly. “Oh I beg to differ, angel. You look rather good.”

“Stop calling me that,” he gritted out. “I liked my other clothes better.”

Rowena turned to the other woman, who was still staring at him wide-eyed. “What do you think, dear? It’s either this,” she motioned to Castiel’s leather jacket and jeans, “or a hideous suit and tan trench coat.”

The woman swallowed. “Um. I, I think you look wonderful,” she stammered as her face reddened. “It all looks really, um, you look great. Excuse me.” She rushed into a room a few doors down as soon as someone else left it.

Rowena spun around triumphantly. “See? Told ya it was better.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and tugged at the collar of his faded blue t-shirt. “Whatever. Can we go now?”

The witch raised a brow and smirked at him. “I believe we can. Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

“We should probably say something when they get back.” 

“Hmm?”

Dean shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “You know, let the kid know she can stay.”

Alex turned from the stove, spatula in hand and a grin on her face. After their brief interlude, she and Dean had finished up the breakfast Cas had started earlier, and she had just finished plating everything when Dean spoke. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He snorted and raised the cup to his lips. “Did not,” he muttered behind the rim. 

“Oh, real mature,” Alex scoffed.

“You’re mature…” Dean started but trailed off when the woman in front of him raised her eyebrows at him. He grinned sheepishly, earning a shake of her head in return. “Anyway, we should let her know so she doesn’t try to take off or something.”

Alex hummed quietly and turned back to grab a few plates. “You wanna discuss this with Sam first?” she asked while walking over to the small table by the wall. The brothers had a bit of a rough history when it came to deciding things on their own, and although she knew letting Melanie stay was the right thing to do, Alex still didn’t feel like she had the authority to make that call.

“Do I need to? I mean, you’re on board, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

Alex pressed her lips into a line and turned to face him. “It’s just that you and Sam and Cas usually make the final decisions, and we haven’t asked either one of them what they think.”

“What they think about what?” Sam asked as he entered the kitchen. He was in shorts and a t-shirt, no doubt coming back from his morning run, and headed straight for the fridge. Alex crossed her arms and sent Dean a pointed look. 

“I’m giving Melanie a room here in the bunker,” Dean said, and Alex rolled her eyes. Way to approach it delicately, she thought.

Sam stood up from where he’d been hunched behind the door of the fridge. “Okay,” he said lightly.

“Okay?” Dean echoed. He’d been expecting an argument, so Sam giving up so easily threw him off balance.

The younger Winchester shrugged and twisted the cap off his water bottle. “Yeah. I mean we can’t just throw her out. Her Cas obviously wanted us to protect her and the kid. We can’t just turn our backs on his family.”

Alex tilted her head and stared at him in awe. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

“That Cas is the father?” Sam asked while glancing between them. “It’s kind of obvious.”

“And here I thought I was being subtle.”

They all turned to see Melanie standing just outside the kitchen, Cas at her side. They were standing awfully close, Alex noticed. Close enough that they could touch if one of them shifted slightly. Interesting…

“Don’t feel bad. Nothing’s subtle around this nerd,” Dean told her, nodding in his brother’s direction and getting a bitchface in return. 

Melanie gave them a small smile and leaned against the wall beside her. Alex took in her tired appearance and frowned. The bags under her eyes and pale skin weren’t exactly good signs. “You want something to eat?” she asked. “You missed out on lasagna last night, but we’ve got plenty of pancakes and bacon and whatnot. No offense, but you look like you could use a good meal.”

Melanie opened her mouth to object but closed it again and nodded. “Thanks,” she murmured. She moved over to the table, running her fingers lightly over the surface when she reached it, and sat down as close to the wall as she could get. It looked like she was trying to take up as little space as possible while everyone else got settled. 

Alex put a few glasses and a carton of juice on the table before she took the seat in front of Melanie. “Maybe after breakfast we can get you settled a bit more,” she said. “Sam usually gets the first shower, but—”

“Dean showers at night, so it won’t be a problem, right?” 

Alex blinked at the woman in front of her while Dean sat beside her. “Um, yeah actually. How did you…?”

Melanie picked at some bacon on her plate and kept her eyes down. “Sorry. Habit.”

Alex shook her head. “I don’t understand. What habit?”

“Well your guys aren’t much different from mine. They look and act the same, keep the same habits and have all the same tells, plus it wasn’t hard to see where you were going.” Melanie’s hands dropped to her lap. “Sorry I interrupted you, though.”

“It’s fine,” Alex managed to spit out. This girl was something else. One minute she was all fire and fury, but the next she couldn’t even meet their eyes. It made her wonder just what she and Cas had talked about on their little walk. She watched the angel in question drop into the seat beside Melanie and brush his shoulder against hers. He gave Melanie a tiny smile, and Melanie snorted in return but bumped against him playfully and left her arm there. Curious for sure. Jack appeared then, and Alex gave him a warm smile before waving him over to the seat beside Sam.

“So,” Dean started once everyone was well into their food. Melanie’s blue eyes flicked up to the hunter and stayed there once his gaze caught hers. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“I can be gone in a couple of days,” Melanie said. “Just give me that long to find a place to stay, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Cas put his coffee mug on the table and reached for her. “Melanie—”

“It’s not up to you,” she told him. “They have bigger problems than a single mom running around.”

The angel flinched back before he could touch her, a hurt look flashing across his expression. “We talked about this,” he insisted. “I thought we’d come to an agreement.”

“We have,” Dean said, stopping Melanie short. 

She eyed him warily before closing her mouth and settling back into her seat. “And?”

Dean pushed his plate to the side and leveled her with a serious gaze. “You’ve got a room here for as long as you want it.”

“But—”

“I’m not arguing with you, kid. Sam reminded me that you’re Cas’s family—regardless of whether or not he’s our Cas. That makes you our family, and we don’t turn our back on family.”

Alex reached over and put her hand on Dean’s thigh, squeezing it gently in support. He was handling all this better than she expected him to.

Melanie blinked and opened and closed her mouth a few times before her brows knit together. “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and looked at Sam. “Um, if you don’t mind, I’d like to jump in the shower.”

Sam waved her off. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll be quick,” she promised and got up quickly to deposit her dishes in the sink. “Thanks, Sam.” With that, the woman disappeared in a rush.

They were all silent for a moment before Jack spoke up. “Castiel, why were you looking at Melanie like that?”

The angel’s eyes widened, and Alex laughed while Sam hid his behind a cough and Dean smirked. “Yeah, Cas,” Dean asked. “Why were you looking at her like that?”

“I don’t, ahem, I don’t understand what you’re referring to,” Cas replied. 

“You kept watching her,” Jack explained, “and whenever she moved, you moved, too.”

Alex pointed across the table and gave him a knowing grin. “You’ve definitely been acting different since she showed up. Any particular reason why?” 

The angel ducked his head. Gripping his coffee cup a little tighter, he replied, “I seem to have some kind of…connection to Melanie. The way I act around her feels very natural, and I find myself unable to walk away while she’s in need.”

“You sure it’s not anything more than that?” Dean asked in a rough voice. He was watching his friend closely, and Alex could see the worry pulling at the corners of his eyes.

Cas sighed and looked up. “I don’t know exactly how to describe my…feelings towards Melanie.”

“And therein lies the problem, Cas.”

“Dean—”

“No, man. You can’t—” Dean wiped a hand down his face. “She’s in mourning, okay? Over you, no less. I doubt she’ll ever be ready for something like that again.”

“I’m not planning on courting her!” The room fell silent at Cas’s outburst. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It’s just that despite what I may or may not feel, I want nothing more than to take care of her. That’s all.”

Jack disappeared with the beat of his wings. Arguments tended to make him uneasy, especially those he didn’t understand, and Alex sensed his guilt tinging the atmosphere. “I’d better go check on him,” she told the group. 

Cas held up a hand and pushed himself into a standing position. “No, I’ll take care of it. It’s my fault he left.”

Alex watched as the brothers shared a worried look when Cas left. “Got any ideas?” Dean asked him.

“Nothing that will end without one of them getting hurt worse than they are.” He sat back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. “I think we’re better off leaving this alone for now.”  
_____________

“Where are we going?” Castiel asked after Rowena directed him to turn onto yet another dark highway. He was getting tired of her “bullshit” as Dean would say, and having her ride in the passenger seat of the Impala was getting increasingly uncomfortable. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to find Melanie.

“To visit a colleague of mine who might have some information that may prove useful to us,” she replied. 

“I thought the Grand Coven kicked you out.”

“Yes,” Rowena drawled, “but that doesn’t mean I haven’t kept in touch with any of them. Charlotte happens to be very talented in the multidimensional arts.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and glanced at the witch beside him. She was smiling innocently back at him—which only furthered his suspicions. “As in, she can open up doorways to other worlds?”

“Smart one, aren’t you?” Castiel glared at her, and Rowena rolled her eyes before adding under her breath, “Of course she is a bit eccentric.”

“Meaning?” Castiel spit out. His tolerance was waning. If they didn’t catch a break soon, he’d probably end up killing the witch in a fit of rage.

“Eh, Charlotte suffered a terrible accident a few centuries back. They say it was witch on witch violence—someone trying to steal her information—but nothing was ever proven. Still,” Rowena sighed, “she never was the same after that. Poor dear. However, I heard rumors her power had strengthened before she went into hiding. It’s what’s kept us in contact after all these years. Charlotte appreciates true talent and only works with those who can match her skill.”

That actually relaxed Castiel a bit. “It’s not unheard of.” At Rowena’s questioning glance, he shrugged. “Often those deemed mentally ill by society aren’t ill at all. They simply have other talents that fall outside the social norm, and the shunning leads them to seek solace in others like them.”

Rowena’s voice dropped. “Are you calling me mentally ill, angel?” she asked dryly.

“Not ill, just different. You’re correct in assuming your talents far outweigh those of other witches. It’s why the Winchesters and I have sought your help on numerous occasions.” He paused then, the ache of losing his family still entirely too fresh to just brush off. Rowena must have sensed his discomfort because she wisely kept her mouth shut. “How much farther?” he asked eventually.

Rowena looked at the scenery as it passed by. “A couple of miles, maybe less. It’s difficult to tell from here.”

“Haven’t you been here before?”

“Yes…”

“But you don’t know how close we are?”

“Trust me,” she said. “When we get there, you’ll know it.”

Castiel white knuckled the steering wheel. “How—” A white light enveloped the car, and Castiel slammed on the brakes while shielding his eyes with one hand. As the light faded, he could make out a shimmering barrier surrounding the car and warping the area around them. Slowly, the barrier tightened, encroaching on their space until it laid flat against the hood, but still it advanced. “Rowena! What’s going on?”

“We’re here,” the witch singsonged. 

Castiel inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as the bubble wrapped around the car. As a last ditch effort, he flexed his wings, looking for an escape, but it was no use. Whatever spell this was had him trapped. Hopefully this would end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments? I'm pretty nervous about this story so far, so any feedback is greatly appreciated. Anyway, I've got a plan, and I can't wait to share it with you guys.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Once I was out of the kitchen, I ducked into my room for a few things and then bolted for the showers. Well, I say I bolted, but it was probably closer to a slow jog considering my size. I had to escape that kitchen. They were all acting like everything was fine—normal even—but nothing about that was anywhere close to okay. The walk with Cas had taken a lot out of me, and it didn’t really hit me until we were on our way back to the bunker. It shouldn’t have been that easy to talk to him, but it was. I told him things Castiel and I hadn’t discussed with anyone else, and it left me feeling like I’d somehow betrayed his trust, which was twisted in and of itself because I was talking to a version of him even though it wasn’t really, technically him. 

All of this alternate reality crap was giving me a friggin’ migraine. 

I slipped into the bathroom before shutting the door behind me and piling my clothes onto the counter. I stripped methodically, trying to keep my mind on the task at hand and not on everything that threatened to overwhelm me, and pulled back the curtain on one of the showers before switching on the hot water full blast. I stepped under the spray, groaning as the sting faded into a gradual warmth that loosened my muscles bit by bit. I glanced down and smiled at the row of bottles arranged on the shelf. Some things were different here, but at least Sam still used that same fancy shampoo.

“Sorry, Sam,” I said while squeezing some into my palm. “I’ll buy you another bottle next time I’m in town.”

I ran the clear gel over my strands and tried to focus on the feeling of the suds between my fingers, but images of my final moments with Castiel kept flashing through my mind. Gabriel’s sacrifice, Castiel shielding me with his body, his blatant lie to follow me through the rift, the feel of his hand squeezing mine… I could still hear the desperation in his voice as he told me to go, and the pain as he screamed was seared into my brain.

I couldn’t breathe.

I sank to the floor as my lungs screamed for air. Trapped. I was trapped, and the walls were closing in with each passing second. I released a strangled sob and managed to take in a small gasp of air, but it wasn’t enough. My eyes flew open, and I clawed at the shower curtain, trying and failing to find purchase. The pressure on my chest intensified, and somehow I knew that was it. I was going to die of a panic attack. I squeezed my eyes shut and sent out a final prayer to my angel—and yes, I do mean MY angel. It went out to the one and only Castiel that could make my heart race and skin sing. I prayed for forgiveness for getting him killed, for leaving him to die, and for dying myself before our child could be born. Dear God, I thought, just get me out of this.

A rush of cold air blew across my skin, and I gave a full body shudder in response. Turns out I wasn’t as dead as I thought. Large hands wrapped around my shoulders, turning me around before a forearm was thrown across my chest and dragged me out of the shower and onto someone’s chest. I coughed and sputtered for several seconds before the rumbling in my ear finally started making sense.

“Breathe for me, Mel. Just breathe, okay? In and out. You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine.” 

I shuddered again, and the person behind me reached up before coming back with a towel from the bar on the wall. They tucked the cloth around me and adjusted us both so that their arm was now on top of the towel and no longer on my bare skin. It took a few minutes, but eventually—under the instruction of my mystery savior—my breathing slowed, and the shaking subsided. 

“You’re doing great, Mel. Keep breathing. I’m gonna sit up, okay?”

I nodded weakly and was finally able to recognize the long legs splayed out on either side of my own. “Sam?” Eck. My voice sounded terrible.

“Yeah,” he answered.

I groaned and let my face fall forward into my palm. “Oh my God.”

“You’re okay,” he assured me again. “Looks like it was just a panic attack. Do you get these a lot?”

“Not really.”

Sam shifted behind me, moving so he could study my face from the side. “You’re not gonna freak out again, are you?”

I huffed a humorless laugh and looked towards the ceiling. “I really hope not. This has been embarrassing enough to last a lifetime, thanks.”

He patted my shoulder lightly and helped me gather the towel around my rear before standing and helping me to my feet. It was awkward, but we managed it—mostly due to Sam’s help. All I really did was hold the towel up and get my feet underneath me when Sam picked me up. He steadied me with a hand on either shoulder and ducked his head to catch my eye. Reluctantly I looked back, the shame already gnawing at my insides. He pressed his mouth into a line and backed off before handing me my clothes. “I really don’t feel like it’s a good idea to leave you alone,” he admitted. “I’ll be right outside the door. Just call if you need anything.”

He turned to leave, but I reached out and caught his sleeve. “Sam, wait. I just…How’d you know I needed help?”

“It’d been a while, and I thought you’d be out already, but then I heard a crash, so…” Sam stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and shrugged.

“Thanks, Sam. Really.” I looked around the bathroom and bit my lower lip. “I’ll be quick.”

Sam just kinda laughed, and I realized that I’d said the same thing earlier. “I’m heading to town later if you wanna tag along,” he told me on his way out.

As the door clicked into place, I caught my reflection in the mirror and grimaced. Sam Winchester saw me naked, in the shower, while I was mid-panic attack. Great. Just friggin’ perfect. It was as if I hadn’t made a big enough fool out of myself in front of these people. Somehow I knew Sam wouldn’t say anything though. I’m not sure how exactly, but there was a silent understanding there when he looked at me.

I pulled on my clothes and hung the towel on a rack to dry before exiting the bathroom. Sam was there, just as he’d promised, leaning against the wall, and he gave me a small smile as we passed each other. Yeah, I thought. I could trust him.  
_____________

“It was Castiel.” Sam glanced over at me from behind the wheel of Baby, a question in his eyes. “The panic attack, I mean. I kinda got sucked into the last memory I have of him and lost control.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked. “It might help you deal with it a little better. You know, process the whole thing.”

I took a deep breath and stared down at my hands. “He sacrificed himself for us. Castiel led me to the rift and then went after Lucifer so I could escape. They were fighting, and I couldn’t tell who was winning, and then right before I left, I heard him scream.” My breath hitched, and Sam reached for my hand. “I didn’t know what to think when I got over here. Gabriel never actually told me where I was being sent, just that I could trust the people on the other side, and I was trying to process being in the bunker when I had just left the bunker, and it was all just so confusing, you know? It’s just that I’ll never forget that sound, and after everything we went through together, I hate that it’s what stands out the most.”

“The first time that Dean died, I was consumed by rage. All I could think about was getting revenge on Lilith. It didn’t matter that Dean asked me to leave it alone. All I saw when I thought about him was Dean laying on the floor after that hellhound got ahold of him. Everything else…the baseball games and pranks and school plays, it all just got shoved to the back of my mind. Even after he came back, I couldn’t let go of the need to kill that demon because it was the only thing that kept me going for so long.” 

“What’d you do?”

Sam laughed and ran a hand over his hair. “I trusted someone else—”

“Ruby?”

He turned wide eyes on me. “You, uh, know about that, huh?”

I shrugged. “Castiel may have mentioned it, but it’s okay, Sam. I don’t blame you.”

“Really?” he scoffed.

“Really. You let the devil loose, but you also saved the world by locking him back up. The way I see it, you made a mess and cleaned up after yourself.”

Sam cleared his throat and continued. “Uh, anyway. I trusted Ruby when I should have let Dean help me instead. I don’t know. Maybe I just had a hard time accepting he was actually back after having lost him.” He squeezed the wheel a little tighter, his knuckles flashing white briefly. “Anyway, the point is, focusing on the bad isn’t going to help any. You’ve got to hang onto the good times you and Cas shared. What’s your favorite memory of him?”

“Pizza night.” Sam raised an eyebrow at me, and I grinned. “We’d been together a couple of months, and I was already pregnant—which was a total accident, by the way. Um, we were all sitting around the map table, and Sam and Dean were arguing about something stupid and wanted Castiel to referee. He flat out refused, and then Dean tried again, so Castiel said, ‘Dean, if you insist on continuing this contest, I’ll be happy to go get a ruler, but I doubt you’ll like the results.’” I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of me. “Castiel smirked at them and reached for another piece of pizza while Dean just kinda stared at him. It was hilarious! Gah, his sass was legendary.”

I looked back at Sam who was actually grinning himself. “Yeah, Cas has some pretty good comebacks. You wouldn’t expect him to, but he does. Is that true though? The, uh, part about the ruler?”

“I am so not getting into that right now,” I laughed. “You’ll just have to ask your Cas to know for sure.”

We pulled into the parking lot of a Wal-Mart, and Sam parked before reaching into his wallet and handing me a credit card. “You can have this one. I rarely use it, and the name is genderless, so it’ll be easy for you to get away with. I know you’re starting from scratch and all. We can get you an I.D. to go with it later.”

I stared at the shiny black plastic and ran my fingers over the raised numbers. “Thanks, Sam.”  
_____________

The last thing Castiel saw the pink sheen of the bubble-like substance coating the Impala’s windshield. When he blinked, however, the car was parked in the main hall of a barn and a tiny woman stood in front of the bumper with her hands on her hips. Her silver hair was pulled into a low bun, but a few strands had fallen away at some point and now hung loosely around her wrinkled face. Her skin was dark, tanned by many days spent in the sun, and her skirt appeared to be a worn patchwork of scraps of fabric. She scowled at him before turning bright blue eyes onto the red-haired witch sitting beside him.

“Rowena McCloud.” The woman spit on the ground at her feet. “Why on earth do you think it’s appropriate for you to be here of all places?”

“I thought you said she liked you,” Castiel whispered.

“I never said that,” Rowena snapped. “I said we worked together.”

“Stop your yappin’ and get out of the car,” the other witch barked. “I’ve been out here long enough.” With that, she crossed her arms and jutted out a hip before raising her eyebrows expectantly.

“I’d do what she says, angel. Otherwise you’ll find yourself in another dimension.” Rowena smirked and climbed out, sweeping an arm out as she bowed. “Charlotte Quimby! Hello, dear.”

Castiel rolled his eyes but did as she instructed and watched the two interact. Charlotte was still boring holes into the other witch, and briefly he wondered if Rowena would be flung into another world before they even had a chance to explain themselves.

“Stop with the theatre tricks, Rowena. You know how much I hate that.” Her eyes fell on Castiel once more, and she narrowed them slightly. “What’s your name, where are you from, and what do you want?”

“My name is Castiel, and I’m—” He paused and chewed on his lip. Was it accurate to call himself an “angel of the Lord” anymore? He wasn’t sure. 

“Well?” Charlotte prodded. “Are you slow or just stupid?”

A growl threatened to rip out of his chest, but Castiel tried to remember that he needed this witch’s help. “I’m an angel,” he said. Technically he served man now, not God, so leaving part of it out seemed appropriate.

“And?”

“And I need your help,” he admitted quietly. Charlotte held out her hand in his direction, palm up, and curled her fingers a couple of times. Castiel glanced at Rowena. “I don’t understand. What’s she doing?”

“Your hand, angel. She wants to read your palm.”

“Oh.” Castiel stepped forward cautiously and laid his hand palm up in Charlotte’s. Her bony fingers wrapped around his hand, and she jerked it up to her face, tracing the lines with a finger and mumbling a forgotten language. It sounded old, but not ancient, and somewhat native… “Susquehannock?” he asked her.

Charlotte’s eyes flashed up at him. “Don’t interrupt,” she instructed, “but yes, it is. I spent some time with the Iroquois after I arrived in this country. I was young, but they took me in once they realized I could be an asset to their community. Now be still.” After tracing the lines of his palm a few more times, Charlotte closed her eyes and clasped Castiel’s hand tightly between her own while she continued her chanting. After several long moments, the small woman gasped, her eyes flying open with the shock.

“Charlotte?” Rowena asked, her face pinched with worry.

Charlotte dropped Castiel’s hand like it was on fire. “You’ve suffered much,” she said, “but I can’t help you. It’s too risky, and I can’t—” She swallowed and shook her head, eyes swimming in unshed tears. “I can’t risk being found. I’m sorry.”

She started to turn and walk away, but Castiel gripped her upper arm. “Please,” he said. “If you saw everything, then you know how much danger she’s in. Isn’t there something you can do?”

Charlotte’s brows pulled together, and she lifted a palm to the angel’s cheek. “I can’t open a door for you, but I can show you a window.”

For the first time in days, hope flared brightly in Castiel’s chest. He nodded, his mouth having gone dry. “Thank you,” he croaked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you guys think? Let me know with a comment or kudos if you're so inclined. Every bit is appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Sam and Melanie returned from the store with snacks and a few b-list movies for everyone to enjoy on a rare night off, so the group piled onto the various chairs and stools in the “Dean Cave” to watch. It started out a little awkward—they were still adjusting to the newest member of the family and learning what jokes they could and couldn’t get away with in her presence—but soon settled into a comfortable familiarity as popcorn and various candies got thrown around. Alex poured drinks for herself and the Winchesters, and Jack made sure he and Melanie had plenty of ice for their cokes while Sam started the DVD.

Cas didn’t really notice when Alex ended up in Dean’s lap, or when the couple started making out, but he definitely noticed when they excused themselves halfway through the second movie while stretching as if they were tired. He snorted at Dean’s half-hearted attempt at a yawn but smiled when he caught the hunter’s eye and received a wink in return. Dean knew that Cas saw through his bull, but he didn’t really care. He was just glad Dean had finally found some happiness. 

As the couple closed the door behind them, everyone turned back to the screen, and Cas almost missed the longing on Melanie’s face as his eyes slid by her. Quick as a whip, he turned back to her, his casual smile falling into a frown, and his brows pulled together as he studied her. She was sitting cross-legged in the second recliner, a navy blue throw tucked around her lower half, and her hands were knotted together in her lap. Her dark hair was pulled up into a loose bun on top of her head, and a few loose strands fell around and brushed at her face and neck. The T.V.’s glow cast half of her features in the shadows, but Cas considered himself lucky to be able to see the illuminated half. 

Even in the dim glow, he thought her incredibly attractive. Her skin was pale anyway, but the screen washed it white, and only a few scattered freckles dared to mar the otherwise impeccable canvas. A slender neck arched up to meet a soft jawline, full lips pursed beneath a tiny nose, and bright eyes narrowed beneath pinched brows while pain radiated from her in waves. She was still hurting, still mourning, and—

She was staring right at him.

Cas jerked his head back to the movie, ignoring Sam’s sideways glance at his sudden movement. If Melanie thought anything of the angel staring at her, she was careful to keep her thoughts away from him. Not that Cas tried to read her mind or anything—he wasn’t that insensitive to personal space, as Dean had called it so long ago—but he could sense when he was the subject of someone’s thoughts as easily as he could sense their prayers, and if Melanie was thinking about him at all she was doing an impressive job of hiding it.

Melanie went to bed at the end of that first movie with a mumbled goodnight, gathering stray wrappers and glasses as she went despite Sam’s repeated requests that she leave the mess alone. She waived him off with a smile over her shoulder and insisted on taking what she could to the kitchen. 

“It’ll bug me all night unless I do it now,” she said. “Personally, I wanna get some sleep tonight.” Melanie then slipped out of the room without another word. Cas didn’t look when she left. Nope. He kept his eyes firmly on the end credits, reading them quickly as they rolled up the screen. He wouldn’t allow himself another awkward encounter with Melanie. He couldn’t afford it. 

Sam was the next to go to bed, waking a sleeping Jack with a gentle shake. The young nephilim blinked up at Sam a few times before rubbing the back of his right hand against his eye and standing. They shuffled out, and Cas was alone. He didn’t start another video, opting instead for the peaceful silence that only came when everyone else had retired for the evening. He wandered out into the hall, closing the door to the “Dean Cave” after a final look around the room. 

Cas headed for the library where he would continue his reading of “The Study of Vampires and Lycanthropes: Ending the Feud.” It wasn’t an especially interesting read, but the Men of Letters library provided a bit of entertainment until dawn broke. Occasionally he’d watch Netflix in his room, but even that got tiring after a while. He craved companionship, someone he could share the silence with. Perhaps it was again time to ignite the pet debate with Dean. Cas knew Sam would be on board, and Jack and Alex seemed agreeable to a cat or dog. Meanie may also want one. Animals were good at aiding humans in times of stress, of which this group of people suffered a great deal.

Cas shook his head as he retrieved the old tome off a shelf and placed it on the table before sinking into a chair with a sigh. He didn’t want a pet, not really. There was a time when he did, but that was before her.

It was well after midnight when a faint voice echoed off the bunker’s walls and reached Cas’s ears. His head perked up, eyes scanning the large room but failing to find the source of the sound. It wasn’t like Sam or Dean to be up this late unless they were working a case, and as far as he knew, things were quiet. Surely the younger Winchester would be here with him if that was not the case. The angel pushed back his chair and stood as his eyes landed on the hallway that lead to the living quarters. There. The voice was coming from somewhere down there.

Cas strode across the floor and down the hall, his shoes barely making a sound as they connected with the surface and lifted again in quick succession. The voice grew louder the further he went and finally registered as Melanie’s. His footsteps faltered as he drew nearer. Was she…singing?

“…the shine of a thousand spotlights, all the stars we steal from the night sky will never be enough, never be enough. Towers of gold are still too little. These hands could hold the world, but it’ll never be enough, never be enough for me.”

Her voice faded and cracked as she finished the line, and Cas stopped just short of his own room, not daring to show himself just yet. Melanie was in there, and she kept saying his name over and over, but it wasn’t meant for him. It couldn’t be. Still, the angel’s curiosity got the better of him, and he craned his neck around the doorframe to find Melanie standing in the middle of the room, her back to him. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Cas frowned. Was she talking to him?

“Why?”

Melanie spun around, her eyes wide with shock. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I’ll just be going.” She started to brush by him, but the angel’s arm shot out to brace against the other side of the door, effectively blocking her exit. Melanie stopped just short of running into him and cast a worried glance up at him.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

Melanie shrunk back, her eyes never leaving his. “I couldn’t sleep, and I know you don’t sleep, so I didn’t think you’d be down this way for a while.” She swallowed and stared down at where her hands rested on the swell of her belly. “I’m sorry.”

Cas studied her yet again. Her hair was loose, and she’d changed into a pair of shorts and a large t-shirt, but her face still carried those worried lines from before. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

Melanie sighed. “I’m not used to the new room yet.”

“Where do you usually sleep?”

Her eyes flickered towards the bed. “Here.”

“So sleep here.”

“Are you insane?!” Melanie hissed. If she was ashamed before, her body language showed nothing of it now. “That is quite possibly the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“If it helps you sleep—”

“No, Cas.” Melanie’s voice was firm, her eyes unwavering as she spoke. “No.”

He couldn’t understand why she was being so resistant. It wasn’t like he himself would be in here with her while she slept, though the thought of quietly checking in on her once or twice had crossed his mind. Cas stared at her a moment before another idea came to him. He tilted hid head and widened his eyes innocently. “Perhaps a hot cup of tea then?”

Melanie eyed him warily, and Cas wondered just how long she could keep it up. Finally, she pressed her lips tightly together and offered a stiff nod. The angel dropped his arm from the doorframe and offered his hand with a barely there smile, the young woman’s eyes tracking each movement carefully. She started to reach out but stopped as her palm hovered just centimeters above his own and curled her fingers into a tight fist. “I remember how to get to the kitchen,” she murmured.

Cas’s smile faded, and his hand fell back to hang loosely at his side. He backed away and swept out an arm, motioning for Melanie to take the lead. She nodded once and did, but she stiffened a bit when Cas started to place his hand on her lower back as she went by. The angel immediately backed off, and Melanie blew out a breath as her muscles relaxed.

This was going to be an interesting cup of tea.  
_____________

I had been deep in my grief after the movie and sought the refuge of a familiar place where maybe, just maybe I could feel my angel again. A familiar song popped into my head as I stared at the empty sheets, and if a few lines escaped my lips, well, who was I to stop them? It’s not like anyone could hear me, right? Wrong. 

I didn’t really know what to expect when Cas showed up behind me. I didn’t think I’d get caught praying to Castiel in my room, and I certainly didn’t think he’d invite me to stay.

But he did.

My mind whirled when Cas offered me his bed, alarm bells ringing loudly in my head. I had to stop this from going any further, so I snapped at him, called him crazy. Surely he knew how wrong that was, right? I had to keep up a barrier between us if I had any chance of…of dealing with everything that had happened, and here Cas was offering to let me sleep in his freaking bed! Damn undermining little shit. 

Then he had to go and offer a safer—though still potentially dangerous—option: a cup of tea. I hesitated, and his midnight eyes softened my resolve. I agreed, and Cas pushed his luck even further by offering his hand, palm up, for me to take. I almost fell for it. Almost. My palm hung tantalizingly near his own before I snatched it back. There was no tingle, no crackle of electricity between us, and the innate feeling of wrongness when he attempted to guide me out only solidified my belief. 

It didn’t matter that he was eerily similar to Castiel. The angel standing in front of me was not, nor would he ever be, my angel.  
_____________

“Take this,” Charlotte instructed. 

Castiel glanced down at the antique mirror in the witch’s hand. “This will show me the window?” he asked.

“That mirror is the window, angel,” Rowena explained quietly. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder in preparation for the ritual, and it calmed him somewhat. How odd.

Castiel took the mirror, turning it over to examine the ornate silver frame and handle. Flowers and vines twined around each other in deliberately random seeming pattern. The glass was cloudy and spotted in a few places, both signs of its true age. He then twisted around to peer into the depths of the well he was sitting on the edge of. Black water reflected his face and the sky above back at him. Turning back to the witches, Castiel gripped the handle and looked between them. 

“You’re sure you can hold me?” They nodded, and Castiel pursed his lips, blowing out a small puff of air. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Relax your mind,” Charlotte told him. “Focus only on your beloved and clear everything else from your thoughts. All the worries, all your cares, let it fade away into nothing. See only Melanie.”

Castiel took a deep breath and closed his eyes as the women helped him to lean back over the well. He focused on Melanie’s face, tracing each line in his mind. When he opened his eyes, the mirror came into focus with surprising clarity. He held it out about a foot away from his body and a little to the right so that he could see the well’s reflection over his shoulder. The glass cleared, and the water shifted, and if air punched out of the angel’s chest with surprising force, well, who could blame him? No longer was he staring at the black pit of a well. Castiel saw only one thing.

Melanie.

She was seated at a table in the bunker’s library and staring down at the steaming mug in front of her. Dark curls cascaded down her back, and one pale hand was propped under her chin. Castiel smiled as he recognized the shirt she was wearing. It was one of his, her favorite in fact, and he had to wonder whether or not it still smelled like him. Castiel whispered her name, and, as if she could sense him, Melanie shivered and tossed a look over her shoulder. 

“Are you all right?” Castiel frowned at the familiar voice.

“Fine,” Melanie mumbled. “Just a little cold.” The frame seemed to widen, and it now showed that Melanie wasn’t alone. Another version of himself was seated across from her and was currently shrugging out of his jacket. “Keep it,” Melanie insisted, flashing a fake smile. “I’m going to bed soon anyway.”

“If you’re sure…” the other Castiel said.

“I’m sure.”

“Before, when I found you in my room…” 

Melanie’s gaze dropped to the cup once more. “What about it?”

“Were you praying?”

Melanie shifted in her seat, pain flashing in her eyes. “I feel closer to him when I do. It helps a little bit.”

Castiel’s mirror image settled his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Does this have anything to do with earlier?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Melanie shrugged. “I’m glad that Dean is happy, really I am. You all deserve to find that, but seeing it first hand?” She shook her head, and raised her fingertips to her forehead. “It shouldn’t be this hard to see another couple in love, but it is. That was me just a few days ago, you know? Castiel and I were the ones everyone rolled their eyes at on movie night, and we were the ones sharing secret smiles in the middle of a conversation. I just, seeing Dean and Alex tonight was just another reminder of what I’ve lost.”

“And that is also why you’re keeping your distance from me?” 

Keeping her distance? This was an interesting conversation for sure. The mirror was starting to get hazy around the edges, but Castiel sharpened his focus, putting every ounce of his strength into maintaining the connection for as long as he was able. 

Melanie nodded and swallowed. “I have to,” she whispered. “It’s the only way I can move on. Losing him…” A tear slid down her cheek, and Melanie hastily wiped it away with her fingers. The other Castiel reached for her hand, but Melanie pulled back and stood. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Goodnight, Cas.”

Castiel felt the connection fizzling out, and the mirror returned to its original cloudiness just as Melanie reached a bedroom, the first of many sobs wracking her body.

Charlotte and Rowena pulled Castiel back into a sitting position, and one of them took the mirror as he braced his elbows on his knees and threaded his fingers in his hair. Blood roared in his ears, and his vision blurred. It wasn’t until someone pulled him into a hug that the angel realized he was crying. Rowena spoke soothing words into his ear, but all Castiel could focus on was the pain Melanie was enduring. He felt it as his own, and the sensation was too much to bear.

He had to get to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went to great lengths to post this and am feeling uber salty as a result. 
> 
> Enjoy bitches.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's been a few weeks since I last posted, but I participated in GISH for the first time (and had a blast, by the way) and was incredibly busy last week as well. I just couldn''t find the time to write, and I didn't want to post a crap chapter. 
> 
> Here it is. Chapter 10.
> 
> Finally.

“Wake up.”

Alex frowned and burrowed deeper into the blankets’ warmth. She wasn’t giving in. Not this time.

“Al, time to get up.” 

That time his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke, and damn if her body didn’t betray her with a full on shudder. Dean laughed, and Alex knew what was next. She gripped the sheets tighter in her fists and squeezed them between her knees. If he wanted her up, he was going to have to fight her for it. 

The blankets flapped up, and a rush of cool air assaulted Alex’s bare legs. She groaned. It was pointless, her crusade to stay in bed, because at this point the only bits of skin that didn’t show were the ones still wrapped in the covers, but she’d always been stubborn, a fighter, and this battle would be no different. When Dean bent over to pry the fabric from her fingers, Alex’s dark eyes popped open, and she wrapped her legs around the man’s waist, flinging him onto the mattress and rolling on top of him. He landed with a huff and snatched her left wrist before it could reach him, but Alex was quicker. While he was distracted, she used her right hand to snatch his less dominant left arm and twist it back and away from his body.

“Ow! Jesus, Al!”

“Do you give?”

“Hell no.”

Alex grinned wickedly down at the hunter and twisted his arm further. “How about now?” she asked.

Green eyes bore into hers and sparkled with a defiant heat. “You know I don’t break easy.”

“Neither do I.” They stared at each other a few more moments, Alex keeping a strong hold on Dean’s arm, before she spoke again. “It seems we’ve arrived at an impasse.”

Dean snorted. “An impasse?”

“Yeah, babe. An impasse. I’m not giving in, you’re not giving in, and yet, I still have the upper hand because you’re trapped beneath—ah!”

Quick as a whip, the hunter wrenched free of her grip and reversed their positions. Her legs were trapped between his own—those things were deadly after all—and he had both of her arms pinned above her head on the pillows. Dean lowered himself so that he was only a hair’s breadth away and smirked. “I’m never trapped, Al. There’s always a way out if you look hard enough.”

Alex let her body relax into the mattress and against the warmth of Dean. Her eyes widened a bit, and she blinked slowly up at him as a plan took form in her mind. She was already too awake to attempt going back to sleep, but she’d stay in bed all day doing nothing if it meant she could win. “How hard do I have to look?” she whispered before biting her lower lip.

Dean sighed quietly as his gaze trailed down her body. She hadn’t dressed after their activities the night before, so the only thing separating them now was the clothing Dean had hastily pulled on this morning. He turned dark eyes back to Alex’s face and let one hand slide down her arm to rest lightly on her cheek. His thumb stroked her full lower lip, and Alex’s eyes drifted closed. Just a little more, she thought, and he’d be a goner.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” Dean said against her lips. She grinned, and he abruptly moved off the bed. Alex frowned and sat up, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “Time to get up,” he said for the second time that morning, a full grin stretched across his face.

“I hate you,” Alex grumbled, but she slid to the edge of the mattress anyway.

Dean leaned down and gave her a quick, closed mouth kiss. “I know.”

“So what’s so important that you had to drag me out of bed without even making me coffee first?” she asked while rooting around in the dresser for underwear and shorts.

“I found us a case,” he said. Alex stopped to look at him over her shoulder, her interest piqued. “Two people were found dead in an alley in Charleston.”

“What’s so special about that? Could just be a mugging gone wrong.”

Dean shot her a wink. “Get dressed and meet me in the library. I still need to fill Sam and Cas in on this.” Alex started to say something else, but Dean held a hand up to stop her. “Yes, there will be coffee.”

She practically skipped over and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I knew I loved you for some reason.”  
_____________

Dean started a fresh pot of coffee and leaned back against the counter to wait. The gentle grumbling and smooth aroma soon filled the kitchen, and he closed his eyes, reveling in the early morning calm. There was something soothing, almost homey, about it, and Dean allowed himself a brief reprieve from life’s stresses to just enjoy the simplicity of brewing coffee in his own home.

Home.

It amazed him how accurate that word was now. For most of his life, Dean had considered his home to be wherever Sammy went, and then they found the bunker, the first really permanent place they’d had since Bobby’s house burned, and he allowed himself to settle in a bit more here. Still, these concrete walls never quite held that same feeling as the house in Lawrence before his mom died. Of course, they’d had a slew of their adopted family come and go over the years. Kevin, Charlie, and eventually Mom all came and went as they pleased. Even Cas used it as a base of sorts for a while, but now he, too, had seemed to make the bunker his permanent residence. Then Jack came along, then Al, and somehow they all just kinda made it into something…more.

Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face. He was getting to be a sap in his old age.

“Rough night?”

Melanie’s voice shook him from his thoughts, and his eyes snapped to where she stood at the door. “No,” he replied quickly. “Just waiting for more coffee. You want some?”

She looked briefly at the pot and chewed her bottom lip for a second but shook her head and moved for the fridge instead. “I’d love a cup,” she said, “but I don’t think it would love me back.” Dean furrowed his brows, and Melanie pulled out the gallon of milk. “Morning sickness,” she explained. “This seems to help.”

“Ah.”

They lapsed back into silence while Melanie went about pouring her milk and sitting at the table to sip on it. Something had been nagging at Dean ever since the young woman arrived. She acted strange around all of them—especially Cas, but that was a whole other level of messed up that Dean was so not ready to think about—but there was a hesitance when she interacted with Dean that really bothered him. She’d said their relationship had been strained at first in that other world, and he felt somewhat responsible for that other guy’s actions (Al called him crazy for it, but whatever) and wanted to apologize for whatever had gone on between them. He wanted to make things right, even if technically they weren’t his wrongs. 

Stupid alternate realities.

Dean sensed Melanie’s eyes on him and looked up. Sure enough, those bright blue eyes were studying him closely, scrutinizing everything about him. He raised a brow in her direction. “Something on your mind?”

She blinked and shook her head. “Nothing…It’s just, why are you dressed already? It’s barely after five. You should be running around in a bathrobe and boxer briefs, not,” she gestured to his form, “this.”

He glanced down at the worn jeans and black t-shirt and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, so I did research and caught a case.”

“Oh.” Melanie stared back down at her half empty cup and didn’t look like she was going to say anything more, but hey, she’d started this conversation, and things were quiet enough for now, so Dean figured this might be his opportunity to find out what was going on in her head.

He walked over and slid into the seat in front of her. “Hey, let me ask you something.”

“What is this? Twenty Questions?”

“If you want.”

Melanie sighed and traced the rim of her glass with a finger. “Shoot.”

He studied her for a moment, weighing his options, and then, “What happened between us?”

Her eyes blew wide. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t like me,” Dean explained, motioning to his chest, “and I get that. I mean, you told me you and the other Dean weren’t exactly besties, but that’s not all it is either, is it?” She refused to meet his gaze, and Dean watched how she started to fidget. “So?” he prompted.

“My Dean blamed me for Castiel almost dying that first time—”

“You never did explain that, by the way.”

Melanie glared at him, effectively silencing the man, before continuing. “Let me back up. When Castiel learned Lucifer had taken me captive, he removed his grace in order to save me without being detected, but it turned out that the angel he trusted to hold onto it was working with Lucifer the whole time.

“Castiel and the guys found me and took me back to the motel they were staying at, but then we had a bit of a fight, and I left for a while to clear my head. It was an idiot move, okay? I shouldn’t have been any more than a couple of inches away from him, but I needed space. I had been cooped up with a psychopath for days, and I just needed to be able to process it all. Castiel followed me anyway, and we made up just like we always do—did, I mean. And then Lucifer showed up and stabbed him right in front of me. I thought he was gone for sure, but he was human, so.” She shrugged.

“It didn’t take,” Dean murmured, realizing there was way more to this chick than he thought.

Melanie nodded. “Yep. Of course, the devil thought he’d finished him, so he didn’t hang around to see it through. We took Castiel to the hospital, and he was in surgery for hours and hours. The surgeon later told us Castiel had actually died on the table a few times, but he always came back somehow.”

“Persistent son of a bitch, ain’t he?”

“Yeah,” Melanie huffed. “Anyway, there was an angel attack while he was recovering, so we had to run, and something about our proximity made him heal faster…” She waved a hand in the air. “I dunno. It was all pretty crazy, but I never got over how Dean looked at me while we waited to see if Castiel would make it, and now that Castiel is…gone, I just. Dean was right. It was all my fault.”

Dean mulled over the new information and leaned forward onto his forearms. “You know that’s a bunch of crap, right?”

She glanced back up at him. “What?”

He inhaled through his nose and stared the woman down. “If your Cas was anything like ours, then there’s nothing that could have stopped him from protecting you and the kid. He’d give his life for a stranger in a heartbeat, so you can imagine how he must have felt giving it for his girl and child. It was never a choice for him.” He watched Melanie chew the inside of her cheek after he spoke, and eventually he felt the need to ask a few more questions. “How long did you say Lucifer had you?”

She swiped at a stray tear and swallowed. “Uh, about a week.”

“And he tortured you?” She nodded. “But you didn’t die?”

“He kept healing me whenever I got close.”

“Did Cas ever get his grace back?”

She blushed furiously and ducked her head, but Dean caught the little smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “He got it back.”

“Before or after you got pregnant?”

“After, but before we knew about it.”

“Uh-huh.”

Melanie gave him a bitchface that would rival the best of Sam’s and crossed her arms over her chest. “What?” she snapped.

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. You said the angel Cas trusted with his grace was working for Lucifer, so how’d he get it back?” Her smile was back, and Dean wondered what was so funny about all this.

“A spell.”

“A spell?” Dean echoed, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Melanie nodded. “Rowena helped. See, Fate had mixed my soul with Castiel’s grace when I was conceived, and I still had it even after Castiel removed his portion of the grace. Rowena figured out a way to extract the grace from my soul and give it to Castiel, and it worked. There was a bit of awkwardness and a huge explosion, but we both walked away from it, and Castiel was at full power again.” She propped her chin on her fist and stared into space. “You should have seen his wings…” 

“Wings? So when you say he was at full power—”

“I mean that his wings were healed, he could fly again, and he was just as powerful as the first time you laid eyes on him in that barn, Dean.”

He ducked his head and studied a crease on his palm before glancing up at her. “He, uh, he told you about that?”

Melanie’s voice grew soft, gentler, but still steady and straightforward. “There’s not much we didn’t talk about.”

“So you know about Hell, too?”

She reached over and gripped his wrist gently, and Dean felt vulnerable all of a sudden. He didn’t like it.

“Hell wasn’t your fault. Just like Lucifer wasn’t Sam’s, and that deal wasn’t your mom’s. They were impossible choices set up and put into place by both sides of the same coin. It couldn’t be helped, and there’s no shame in that.”

They stared at each other a few more seconds before Dean stood and fixed another cup of coffee. Even with his back turned, he could still feel the weight of Meanie’s eyes. “I’ve gotta go fill Al in on our case,” he said. “It’s a long drive to Charleston, so we need to get a move on.”

“What’s in Charleston?”

“Not much, just a couple of dead guys, but it seems like it could be a case.” There was silence while he added a bit of caramel creamer to Al’s cup.

“How’d they die?”

Dean stopped stirring and dropped the spoon into the sink with a clank. “Why do you care?” Why the sudden interest? She hadn’t so much as blinked when they talked about other possible hunts this week, so why was this one any different?

“I’m just curious,” she murmured.

“Dean scowled at her wide eyes and innocent expression. Yeah, okay. She was “just curious.” Sure. Whatever, he’d pay along. “They had holes punched in their chests, but their throats were also slit. Happy?” He started to walk out but cursed when someone spun him around and pushed him against the wall. 

“You can’t go to Charleston,” Melanie told him, inches away from his face.

“What—”

“Just listen to me, okay?! You can’t go. Ignore it, or send someone else, I don’t care, but you guys have to stay away from that city. Don’t tell Cas, don’t even mention it because you won’t be able to stop him, and he’ll die.” She pushed away and stepped back, her eyes wide as saucers and face ghostly white. “Just like mine almost did.”

Dean searched her face. “Melanie,” he said slowly, “what’s in Charleston?”

She shivered and cast a glance over her shoulder but looked back and said one word.

“Lucifer."  
_____________

Castiel let the old witch pull him back up over the edge of the well, and he handed her the mirror with a sigh. He’d returned to Charlotte every day this week to check in on Melanie, but it was always just as difficult as the first time. Melanie was…functioning, but that term did little to describe her daily life. She would probably refer to it as “just getting by” or “staying afloat,” but it wasn’t truly living. She was bearing her load, but how long would it last? How long until she broke under the pressure and gave into her emotions? 

How long could she survive like this?

Charlotte placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Castiel looked up at her with weary eyes. “Thank you, Charlotte. You’ve been a great help to me, and I appreciate your kindness.” She pressed her lips into a line before nodding once, but as Castiel rose and stretched his wings, the old witch’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“I’ve done nothing but open a window,” she said. “Finding the door still rests on you. You are still looking, aren’t you?”

He turned and leveled her with a glare. The air around them crackled with electricity as his anger grew, but the tiny woman stood her ground. “What are you implying, witch?”

“I’m not ‘implying’ anything.”

“I haven’t lost sight of my mission,” Castiel growled. “I will get her back.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes and picked up her dusty skirts. “It’s easy to lose focus, angel. You’d do well to remember that.”

She headed past him towards the house, and Castiel knew he’d been dismissed. He blinked and was back in the bunker’s library. Back to Rowena. Back to the search. Back to the lore which had revealed nothing thus far.

Back to nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Comments?
> 
> I always love to hear from the readers. Are you guys enjoying it thus far? I'm still nitpicking the rest of the details for this story, but I do have some pretty cool things lined up for it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever since I last posted, and for that I apologize. I haven't had time to write much lately as life has been incredibly busy, but good things come to those who wait and all that, so here's the latest chapter I have for you guys. Thank you so much for sticking with me this far, and please, if you're still invested in this fic, let me know what you think in the comments. You guys have no idea how happy I am to receive them.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Lucifer?”

I raised my eyebrows in annoyance. “I’m sorry, did I stutter? Yes! Lucifer! Satan! You know, Morning Star, evil incarnate, shitty father, and all around dick?” Dean just kept staring at me blankly, so I pushed away from him with a huff. I turned away from him and ran a hand over my hair while trying to reign in my temper. What was so hard to understand? I turned on my heel to see him still staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Are you having a stroke or something?”

He shook his head and turned to place both cups of coffee onto the counter behind him before taking a slow but deliberate step in my direction. “How sure are you that this is Lucifer?” he asked.

“Dean, what—” I huffed again and threw up my hands. “This is exactly what Castiel, Sam, and Dean were going to check out before Lucifer kidnapped me. I was on the freaking phone with them when he caught me in that damn alley! I know what I’m talking about here, okay?”

“If this really is Lucifer we’re talking about, then we need to take him out. This is the first real lead we’ve had on him in months. I can’t just walk away from it.”

Sweet Jesus. I was dealing with an idiot.

“I’m telling you, Dean. If ya’ll go, then that’s it. Cas will definitely die.” I held up my hands palms out. “I won’t be responsible for that. Not again, and I refuse to watch it happen. I can’t handle it a second time.”

I left him to stew in his juices for a bit, heading straight for my room to change and grab my wallet. I wouldn’t be here if they decided to leave. I tried to get Dean to see reason, but it was like talking to a brick wall. If they went, they went. I couldn’t do anything to stop them. Pulling on a pair of black yoga pants, I hesitated before swiping the burner phone off my dresser. It was something Sam insisted I carry earlier in the week. He had said anything could happen now that I was staying with them, and I had to be able to reach them at any time in case of emergency. It made sense, I guess, and I appreciated the sentiment, but I desperately wanted to leave it there for a while and go off on my own. (I also had a sneaking suspicion Sam was using it to track me, but that’s not always a bad thing, and I could have disabled it if I had wanted.) I glanced quickly outside my door and made it to the garage without interruption. Once there, I jumped into Cas’s truck and took off, a stringent of guilt playing at the back of my mind. 

I needed space, a distraction, and I wasn’t going to get it in that bunker.

My stomach started growling about the time I made it into town, so I pulled into a little diner. The gravel lot wasn’t packed, but I knew from experience that it served the best waffles in the area. Castiel had taken me there several times over the last few months, and as I put the truck into park, I was struck by a sudden memory.

It was a late night craving that led us to the diner. Castiel insisted he could pick up the food and be back within minutes, but I smoothed the lapels of his jacket, stepped forward until our chests were touching, and tilted my head back with a small smile.

“I know it would be easier to just fly over there and back, but then we’d miss out on the whole experience,” I told him.

Castiel wrapped his arms around me, locking me in his embrace, and tilted his head to the side. “Experience?”

I nodded eagerly. “There’s nothing like the atmosphere of a deserted restaurant in the middle of the night. It’s like reality twists a bit, and everything is a little more magical.” I laughed as he raised a skeptical brow. “C’mon,” I insisted, “you’ll love it.”

“I believe this is what Dean would refer to as a ‘death trap,’” Castiel muttered after pulling the car into the nearly deserted lot. There were two cars parked close to the side door, but there were no other signs of life anywhere around us. He turned the keys over in his palm while surveying the area, no doubt using his grace to search for those threats which remained unseen to my eyes. 

I snorted and patted his thigh before reaching for the door handle. “Let’s go, grumpy. I’m starved.”

Thirty minutes later, I was pushing the last bite of my chocolate chip waffles towards Castiel. He squinted as a glob of syrup fell from my fork then turned his eyes on me and wrapped his fingers more tightly around his coffee mug. “I really don’t—”

“C’mon, Castiel,” I sighed. “You’ve got to at least try it. They’re really good, I promise.” I smiled reassuringly at him, and the angel scoffed before dipping his head down to capture the bite in his mouth. The move shouldn’t have been so hot, but there was something about the way he kept his eyes locked with mine that had my mind blanking out. It was kind of like tapping the space bar over and over while trying to type something. I knew words were supposed to be there in the form of thoughts and whatnot, but all I came up with were blanks.

Castiel hummed and licked his lips. “You’re right,” he conceded, raising the porcelain mug to his lips. “Delicious.”

“Uh-huh.” It wasn’t much, but it was better than staring at him and drooling.

The corner of his mouth lifted, and I couldn’t help but grin back. Castiel glanced out the window, his smile dropping. “It’s going to rain,” he said. “We should get you home.” 

We left some cash on the table and waved to the waitress before heading outside. As if on cue lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the parking lot like it was midday, and a clap of thunder rumbled as the first few drops fell. I held my hand out from under the cover of the diner’s entryway, watching as those fat drops fell quicker and quicker. Castiel started to reach for me, and I know he wanted to fly out of there, but an idea struck me. I took his hand and pulled him out into the storm, laughing as we both got soaked. 

“Melanie!”

I turned at the sound and saw a less than amused angel standing stock still behind me. His clothes were totally saturated, his dark hair plastered to his face, and I laughed again at his grumpy expression. 

“Live a little!” I shouted over the rain. I lifted his hand and used it to twirl myself around a couple of times before coming back to wrap my arms around his waist.

Castiel smirked and shook his head a little. “You,” he said as he ran a hand down my face, “are insane.”

I shrugged. “Everyone’s a little crazy. I’m just lucky enough to have more than the average person.”

“I wouldn’t use average to describe you.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “Exceptional comes to mind, but even it falls short. There’s nothing that quite fits you. Unique, perhaps, but only in the best of ways. Quirky, intelligent, savvy, witty, intense, loving, courageous, soft…You are completely, beautifully, you, and I love that.”

At a loss for words, I just grinned, and Castiel took the opportunity to capture my lips in a gentle kiss. I melted into him, the rain all but forgotten around us. The air sang with electricity, and I knew it was only partly due to the storm and mostly to do with the grace flowing between us, strengthening our connection and binding us tighter together with every brush of our lips and each twist of fingers in sopping clothing. I sighed into his mouth, and Castiel groaned before warmth enveloped me and the world fell away.

“The car,” I worried when the familiar smell of the bunker invaded my nostrils.

“Forget it,” he whispered and began pulling at my clothing. 

Our clothes slapped onto the concrete floor as we made our way to the bed. A chill raised goosebumps on my arms, but they were soon soothed away by the feel of his skin on mine, and I sank into every sensation, every smile, and the soft look in the eyes of my very own angel.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I startled from the memory, trying in vain to decide whether to memorize the memory or forget it in order to protect myself from further grief, and pried my fingers loose from where they were gripping the door. A woman was standing not three feet away, an apron slung low on her hips. I nodded once, and opened my mouth a few times before settling on one word. 

“Fine.” Even to me my voice sounded strained. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You don’t look so good. Why don’t you come in for a bit? Maybe get something to eat?” Her face was creased with concern, her eyes imploring me to let her help, but something was nagging at the back of my mind. If I could just clear my head a little, I could figure it out.

“I was actually on my way inside when I, um…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain what I didn’t understand myself. How long had I been standing there? How long was I lost in the feel of Castiel, the feel of something that felt so real but was only a fading memory?

The woman dropped the bag of garbage I didn’t even realize she’d been holding and extended a hand. “Name’s Jo.”

Again, something tried to shake loose, but I ignored it in favor of taking her hand and shaking it. “Melanie.”

“Well, Melanie, why don’t you go in and take a seat, huh? I’ll just take care of this and be right back to take care of you.”

A tiny smile tugged at my lips. The thought of someone taking care of me—even if it was at a diner—was really comforting. “That actually sounds really nice,” I told her. “Thanks.”

“No problem, sugar. I’ll be right back.” Jo winked at me and scooped up the discarded bag. I watched her head towards the dumpster at the edge of the gravel lot before I turned and walked inside.

Too bad it did nothing to ease my aching heart.

The interior of the diner was done up just like the one from my world, and everything from the cracked vinyl of the booths to the yellowing tiles only strengthened the nostalgic feeling left over from the memory that assaulted me outside. I slid into a booth near the back facing the rest of the room and ran my fingers lightly over one of the laminated menus tucked between the napkin dispenser and ketchup bottle before pulling it out to take a look. Just glancing at the items reminded me of how intensely Castiel had studied each one that night, his brows creased in concentration. Everything always came back to him, back to us, back to what I’d lost…

“Ugh.” I shoved the menu away and looked up right as Jo circled around the counter and walked towards me. 

“See anything good?” she asked.

“Not really,” I answered truthfully. “I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.”

She pursed her lips for a second and furrowed her brows while staring at me for a moment. “How about some hot tea?” Jo asked with a tilt of her head. “You could start with that and see how it goes.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone!” 

Jo spun on her heel and hurried away while I mulled over her statement. It was a joke, I knew it was, but there was something about it that just hit me wrong. In fact, there was something wrong with Jo in general. She was too warm, too comforting, and it put me on edge. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped at all.

“Cas is worried sick about you. Sam, too.” I’d been so deep in thought that I didn’t even notice Alex slide into the seat across from me. Her dark hair was pulled back away from her face, and she propped her chin in her hand as she looked at me. “Dean blames himself, you know,” she continued, rolling her eyes. “That’s par for the course, though. He tends to take responsibility for everything that happens to anyone around him, but especially those he cares about.”

“Dean doesn’t care about me,” I muttered, glancing down at where my hands were folded on the table.

“You’d be surprised,” she said quickly. “You obviously meant something to your Castiel, so Dean’s taken it upon himself to try and look out for you. Cas is his best friend, and if your angel was as similar to ours as you say, then Dean basically sees you as family.” Alex leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin on her lips. “That automatically means he’s gonna take care of you whether you like it or not.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” I insisted. “None of you owe me anything. All I’m doing is weighing you down, and pretty soon I’m going to have a screaming baby to take care of, and there’s no way you all should have to deal with that.”

Alex reached over and lightly touched my wrist. “A baby is a blessing, even to hunters,” she said quietly. “It’s a miracle that we’d all love to have the opportunity to be a part of if you’ll let us. You aren’t a burden, Mel, and you should never feel that way.”

I clenched my jaw to try and hold off the tears as we stared each other down. There was clear truth ringing in her words like she honestly believed what she was saying, and damn it, I was touched by her sincerity. I didn’t realize they all cared so much.

I dropped my eyes to the cracked edge of the table and huffed a laugh to try and disguise the emotions bubbling up in my chest. “You know, when I got up this morning, I really didn’t think I’d have so many heart to heart conversations before lunch.”

Alex grinned brightly at me and settled back into the booth. “Gotta have a little estrogen every now and then. It gets awfully stuffy with all that testosterone filling up the bunker.”

“Right?!” It felt good to finally have someone who understood what it was like to live with those three. “You seem to have Dean loosened up a little though. There’s no way mine would ever start up a conversation like the one we had in the kitchen.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “He’s really a big softie. Poor guy just didn’t have anyone to push him on that kinda stuff before.” A fond smile crept across Alex’s face, and right then I knew she was totally—completely—head over heels for the older Winchester. “When’s the food coming?” she asked, switching topics quickly. “I ran out before I really had the chance to grab breakfast, so I’m starving.”

I opened my mouth to speak when a steaming cup was set inn front of me. I smiled politely, looking up expecting to find Jo’s kind face staring back at me, but it was an older woman instead. “What happened to the other waitress?” I asked after thanking her for the tea. “The one that took my order.”

“Family emergency or something like that. Jo blew outta here faster than a devil on holy ground.” The woman shrugged and pulled out a pad. “Anything else I can get ya?”

I let Alex go ahead with ordering while I dissolved into my own thoughts. Jo had disappeared as rapidly as she had come, and something about her was still nagging at me, but for the life of me I couldn’t place what it was. She was kind enough, caring enough, and there was no outward reason why I should have been feeling this way. Still, I usually went with my gut when reading people, and this time was no different. It was telling me that she was a bad omen, and I should be wary. 

I felt Alex tense up across from me, and I looked questioningly at her before nearly jumping out of my seat as our waitress fell to the floor…along with everyone else in the room. Pure fear shone in Alex’s dark eyes for half a second before she dove across the table and dragged me to the floor. I didn’t have time to ask why or what was going on, but I knew enough to stay quiet when she jerked me close and held a shaking finger to her lips. It was then that I heard a voice that chilled me to the bone, and I knew we were screwed.

“I’m getting tired of your games, Jo. I thought you said you’d tracked them down, but—” There was a brief pause as I imagined him waving his arms around the diner. “I don’t see anyone.”

“You didn’t see what I did. It wasn’t just the nephilim that showed up. There’s someone else with them now, a woman, and she’s pregnant.”

“So one of their one night stands finally went wrong. What’s that got to do with me?” He was getting angry now, and if Jo wasn’t careful, she was about to find herself on the receiving end of some heavy duty smiting.

Someone took a couple of steps, and Jo lowered her voice. “The child is human, but he has angelic grace within him.”

Him? My heart pounded with the revelation. A boy. I was carrying Castiel’s boy. Suddenly visions of a tiny version of Castiel ran through my mind. Wild hair and piercing eyes bouncing across a playground. A serious expression smeared with spaghetti sauce as he tried to figure out how to eat such a strange food. A studious teen, his features softer than his father’s, spending hours researching for a school project and making sure everything was just right before daring to turn it in. A young man grinning that same wide smile while telling me of his plans to marry the love of his life.

“Look again, Lucifer,” Jo instructed, breaking me out of my visions. “Tell me what you see.”

Alex wrapped her fingers tightly around a golden blade as she squeezed her eyes shut and mouthed a silent prayer. Hopefully she was sending out a distress signal, or maybe it was a warning if she was preparing to fight, to the others at the bunker. Her eyes flew open, and she shoved me back against the wall before being dragged out by her jacket and thrown across the room. There was no sound of her landing, and I wondered what became of her as the hand returned with a face that still haunted my nightmares.

“Well, hello there.”  
_____________

Castiel knew something was wrong as soon as he landed back in the bunker. It wasn’t just his grace alerting him to danger, it was deeper than that. Before Rowena could ask what was wrong, he flew straight back to Charlotte’s, appearing right in front of her. 

“Take me back,” he ordered, his face nothing short of terrifying, even to a woman as hard as the old witch. Castiel wrenched her up from her seat and walked her backwards until she was pressed into the wall of her living room. “Something’s wrong with Melanie. Take me back to the well.”

“You can’t do anything to save her, not from here,” Charlotte spit. 

“No, but it will tell me where she is once I find a way to her universe.” Castiel released his hold on her upper arms and stepped back. “Get the mirror. I have to see it.”

Charlotte glared at him but did as instructed, and Castiel’s rage only grew once he was hovering above the dark hole. His brother had Melanie cornered in a diner somewhere, and he was leering at her in a way that made Castiel’s stomach roll. If she lived it would be a miracle. Saving her would be nearly impossible, but the fury within his chest pushed Castiel into desperate action. He left Charlotte without a word, the mirror falling onto the stone path leading to the well and cracking with the impact as the scene faded away.

Castiel needed answers, and he wasn’t going to find them on earth.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever since I last posted because my life has been insanely hectic, but here it is. Enjoy!

Alex woke up to the sound of someone calling her name. She recognized that voice, she knew she did, but all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. Just as the darkness was about to overcome her once more, a sharp pang on her shoulder jolted her awake.

“What the hell?” she grumbled, taking in the damp stone wall inches in front of her face. She started to reach out and touch it when a heavy weight drew her attention to her wrist. Alex was wearing a pair of handcuffs eerily similar to the ones Sam and Dean so often used to keep demons and angels bound. “Seriously, what the hell?!”

“Alex!” the voice hissed again, and she pushed herself up, twisting around until she spotted the source of the voice behind a set of steel bars several feet away.

“Mel?”

The young woman nodded rapidly, her dark curls bouncing with the sharp movement. “Keep it down,” Melanie whispered. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Alex nodded and wracked her brain for the missing details. “Lucifer?” she asked, getting another nod in return. “What happened? The last thing I remember was trying to hide, and then—”

“You just disappeared,” Melanie told her. “One second we were under that table together, and the next he just flung you across the room like you were nothing. Then he jerked me out, but I couldn’t see you anywhere.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Melanie pressed her lips into a thin line, the already pale skin around them growing even whiter. “Not really. He seemed more interested in the baby than in me.” She shifted, her eyes falling to the swell beneath her shirt. “It was weird though. It’s like he was studying me or something."

“Well that can be nothing but good news,” Alex replied flatly. “How long have we been here?”

Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple of hours maybe? It’s hard to tell, and I’m not even sure where exactly here is.”

Alex chewed her bottom lip while examining her cell. It wasn’t large, measuring only about five by seven feet. If she attempted to stand, however, Alex was sure that she’d have to hunch under the low hanging ceiling. Two sides of the cell were the same stone that she’d woken up to, but the front and side between herself and Melanie were both made of vertical bars spaced less than a foot apart. Dim light shone from outside the cell, though she couldn’t spot the source of it.

She sighed and flopped back against the wall. “My best guess? Hell.”

“Shit.”

Alex nodded and closed her eyes, taking stock of her powers or lack thereof. The cuffs she found herself in seemed to be dampening every trace of angelic ability Gabriel passed on to her, and she felt more warding in the cell pressing her down. 

“Do you think the others got your message?”

Alex’s dark eyes snapped open, and she turned to look at Melanie. “You caught that huh?” 

Another shrug. “Kinda. I mean I just assumed you were calling them. It’s what I would’ve done.”

Alex smirked and closed her eyes. “I told Cas everything I knew at the time, but I doubt we can get another message to him from here. Let’s just hope they’re smart about any rescue attempts. Dean tends to get a little…”

“Obsessed?”

“Yeah. Especially when it’s someone he cares about. He’s probably already got a demon or angel trapped for interrogation.”

The two women lapsed into silence as each contemplated what a rescue would look like and how soon it would arrive. Things weren’t looking good, not from their perspectives, and they worried over the little family they’d grown to love. It wasn’t long before the sound of flapping wings brought them back to the here and now, and Alex frowned when she saw Lucifer leaning casually against the bars of Melanie’s cell.

“You know,” he started lightly, “I’m getting a bit bored with the demons running around here. How about we play a game where I ask you a question, and you guys answer me?” Lucifer grinned at the woman pressing herself into the farthest corner of her cell. “Melanie? Wanna go first?”

“Screw you,” she muttered, never once looking up at him.

“Aw, now that’s not very nice.” In a flash, he was inside the cell, his face inches away from hers. He blinked and held a hand to his ear. “How about you try that again, hmm?”

“Leave her alone, you dick.” Alex had leapt to her feet the instant she saw him move, and she now had the steel bars between them gripped tightly in her fists. The devil’s eyes flashed red, but Alex stood her ground. He was scary, sure, but she’d fought Michael and another Lucifer already. Her main fear was for the woman he now crouched over, so Alex had to do whatever it took to draw his attention away from her.

“You know, I would, but I’ve got plans for her and this…little one.” He winked once, and disappeared, taking Melanie with him.

Sweat beaded on Alex’s neck as a pit of dread settled in her stomach. Now what?  
_____________

I’d been here before, I reminded myself silently while Lucifer meandered along the table to my right. I’d watched him select tools from a table just like that in another room, in another world, what seemed like a lifetime ago. I’d experienced what I thought was the worst torture imaginable, but then, I hadn’t been a mother back then. Now I had a whole new set of fears to keep me on edge.

I wasn’t strung up on a rack like last time either. This session found me lying face up on an ice cold table, strapped down so that I couldn’t move or squirm or even turn my head. I was trapped, completely and totally at his mercy, and I didn’t know if he would heal me at the end of the day or just let me die. I didn’t know which option I wanted him to go with.

“I’m not going to kill you yet,” Lucifer announced, his back still turned to me. I hated the way he could read my thoughts. Not only did it make me feel more exposed than I already was, but it reminded me of all I had to lose, and I fought to keep a blank spot where Castiel usually resided in my head. Lucifer picked up a simple scalpel and glanced at me over his shoulder. “I still have much to learn from you both.”

“What do you want?” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he could hear me clearly.

That got his attention. “What do I want?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “What I want is for Dad to come back. I want to watch him while his precious humans burn. I want to watch him crumble while his creation reverts back into the pitiful wasteland it was before he first planted life on this rock.” He leaned over me, his face inches from mine while he braced one hand on the table over my head. “I want to know why you, a human, is carrying an angel’s child without it being a nephilim.”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “It just happened.”

“Who is the father?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit. Who—” he pressed the scalpel into the skin at my collarbone “—is the father?”

“I don’t know.” I repeated a second time.

He split the skin, and I buried all images of Castiel deeper in my mind. “Who is the father?!”

“I don’t know! It was an accident! A one night stand!”

The slice grew, stretching down across my left breast, and I bit back the scream that threatened to rip out of my chest, gritting my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut. “You don’t know?” Lucifer asked. I tried to shake my head, but the straps held me in place, and I panicked when he held the blade to my naval. “I bet he does.”

“No, please.” Begging, I was actually begging. Never before had I thought I’d be reduced to that, but a baby will do interesting things to a woman. “Please don’t hurt him! I—I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Lucifer pressed the tip of the blade into my skin, a questioning look in his eye. “Well?”

I gritted my teeth, the last of my will making itself known in a last ditch effort to protect the Castiel of this world. Lucifer wouldn’t believe me if I told him I wasn’t from here. He’d go straight after the angel he knew, and I couldn’t let him use me against him, not again. But then Lucifer broke the skin, a single drop of blood escaping, and I shouted his name with everything I had.

“Castiel! Castiel is the father!”

There was half a second where surprise flitted across the devil’s face, but it was quickly dispelled and replaced by a rapidly growing anger. “Should have known,” Lucifer grumbled while lifting the scalpel and pacing the length of the room. 

I prayed for forgiveness but knew my apologies were pointless. I’d given him up, painted a target on his back, and it was useless trying to make up for that now. Cas was blameless, but I’d thrown him under the bus to protect the child I carried. Might as well have stabbed him myself. I dissolved into tears, the pain and sorrow quickly overwhelming me in that moment.

“Tell me everything.”  
_____________

Dean slammed his fist into the table as Cas delivered Alex’s message, and he had to focus just to keep his lungs working. Gone. Alex was gone, Melanie taken with her, and by the one guy he’d failed to put in the ground. 

“Dean? It’s okay. We’ll get her back.”

Sam’s voice was gentle, soothing, but Dean couldn’t even begin to process what his brother was saying through the fog of rage and pain that had descended. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the sides of his head as he tried to come up with something—anything—he could do to find her. Gone. Gone, gone, gone, and it was his fault. He should’ve been the one to go after Melanie, should have made Alex stay home, but he didn’t, and it bit him in the ass. 

Dean pulled a ragged breath in through his nose and forced it back out of his mouth before standing abruptly and facing the others. Cas’s hand was half stretched towards him, his face creased with concern for his friend, and Sam’s wide-eyed stare took in every move Dean made, much like he had watched their father as a child. He was waiting for the explosion, for the rage to build and build and eventually be taken out on him, and it was that realization that forced a bit of sanity back into Dean’s mind.

“Get me a demon.”

Cas and Sam exchanged a quick glance before the angel spoke. “Dean, I don’t think—” The elder Winchester glared at his friend, but Cas wouldn’t be deterred. He’d faced Dean when he was on the verge of becoming a demon again, and he wasn’t about to let him slip back into such a dark place. Pulling his vessel up to its full height, Castiel met Dean’s glare with one of his own. “I’m not letting you torture for information. We’ll find them another way.”

“What other way, Cas?! You got any better ideas? Cause I don’t! They’re not gonna survive—” Dean’s voice broke, and he tried again. “They might be dead already, man, and I can’t just leave them out there.” He sucked in a breath and dropped his head, bringing a hand to his face to wipe away the emotion gathering behind his eyes. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and he tried to draw comfort from the familiar gesture, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the image of Alex’s body burned from the inside out. It broke what little composure he had left, and Dean fell back into a chair, glassy, red-rimmed eyes staring into nothingness. 

The flap of wings drew everyone’s attention to the spot beside Sam where Jack now stood. His eyes large and chest heaving, Jack sputtered out three words that would change everything. “I found something.”  
_____________

Castiel slammed his palms on the gleaming desk in front of him and glared at the porcelain haired angel in front of him. “You. Will. Help. Me,” he spit. “After everything you’ve done to my family, to Heaven, this is the least you can do to make up for it.”

Naomi tucked shaking hands into her lap and fought to keep her voice even. “I didn’t make you take that girl to bed, Castiel, and I didn’t make you lose her, either. I had nothing to do with this.”

His features twisted into nothing short of a sneer, and Castiel rose up and rounded the desk, turning Naomi’s chair until she faced him once more. Dropping his angel blade from his sleeve, he tucked it beneath her chin, pressing just enough to let her know he meant business. “You’re right,” he said. “When our world was being threatened by another universe, you did nothing. When Lucifer himself was playing God, you hid away. And when Amara would have destroyed all of Creation, you never blinked. You’d rather the Winchesters clean up Heaven’s messes because it leaves your hands clean.”

Mustering the last of her strength, the angel forced the lines of her face to smooth out as she looked up at Castiel. “You won’t kill me.”

If he was anyone else, Castiel would have plunged his blade through Naomi’s skull, but he wasn’t someone else, and even though he was desperate to have Melanie back, desperate to keep her safe and hold her again, deep down he knew threatening Naomi was pointless. She was right. He wouldn’t kill her. Because as off the rails as Rowena had recently said he was, Castiel knew if he happened to save Melanie, she’d hate him for killing someone to make that happen.

His grip faltered, and his face fell as he stepped back. “You’re right. I won’t—”

In a flash he was gone, the room having gone silent around Naomi, and she stayed frozen in her chair, too afraid to move or breathe or make the smallest of sounds. Only her eyes, blown wide with her distress, darted about each corner as she searched for whatever it was that took Castiel.


	13. Chapter 13

It hadn’t taken long to form a plan and pack up once Jack told them everything. He, too, had gotten a prayer from Alex and immediately began tracking the nearest demon he could sense. Dean didn’t pay much attention to how Jack found it or what the kid had done to get the information he needed. He even went as far as interrupting the nephilim at one point and threatening to shoot him if he didn’t get to the point soon.

“I know where they are,” Jack had said, and Dean sprang into action. 

Sam stopped him by pressing a hand into his chest and forcing his older brother to stay put. “What are you doing?”

Dean raised his brows in annoyance. “Packing. Jack can give me directions on the way, Sam. Now move or be moved, man. I don’t have time to sit around here and talk. Al needs me.”

Sam dropped his hand and stepped aside, but his damned puppy dog eyes had been tracking Dean’s every move since. Even now, as he made yet another turn and hammered on the gas, Dean could feel the weight of his brother’s stare.

“Stop it.” Chancing a quick glance at the passenger seat out of the corner of his eye, he found Sam in the middle of that same I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about-because-I-did-nothing shrug. 

“What?”

Sighing, Dean rolled his eyes and lightly slapped the steering wheel. “Stop looking at me like you’re waiting for me to break. I’m fine. Al’s gonna be fine. Let’s just get there and get it done.”

“Dean,” this time it was Cas’s voice that floated up over the seat, “Sam’s right to be concerned. We all are. If your head isn’t clear, you may actually hinder us in the fight.”

Furious green eyes glared at the angel through the rearview mirror. He was fine, dammit! Just fine, but if these guys didn’t leave him alone soon, Dean was pretty sure he was gonna—

“Dean! Look out!”

A bright bolt of lightning had cracked across the sky, but Dean was pretty sure that wasn’t what his brother had been talking about as a dark figure dropped to the pavement ahead. Swerving quickly, he narrowly missed the tangle of limbs in the center of the road and skidded to a stop. The car was silent save for the rumble of the muffler and the gentle patter of fresh rain on the windshield as Dean again stared into the rearview. Sam looked to his brother in question, and Dean shook his head once, waiting and watching as the figure began to move in the glow of the taillights. 

Shifting the car quickly into park, Dean grabbed the door handle and scrambled out. He left it open and pulled his gun, aiming at the ground but ready to shoot whatever they’d come across if need be. He came to a stop beside the trunk of his beloved car and waited, heart pounding and breathing having ceased, when all at once he recognized the set of the shoulders and the messy mop of hair on the ground.

“Son of a bitch…”  
_____________

Falling wasn’t new, but being torn from one place and transported to another without his knowledge of how it happened was something entirely new to Castiel. He’d appeared amid a searing strike of electricity and was totally incapable of regaining his bearings whilst plummeting to the ground. He landed with an audible thud in a pool of light that was jerked away immediately after, and he thought for sure that his life couldn’t get any stranger than it already was, but apparently God had other plans. Just as he was pushing himself to his feet, Castiel heard someone swear behind him and froze. 

Squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his fists at his sides, Castiel fought the fit of insanity swelling up in his head. That wasn’t Dean. He must have finally lost his mind, the stress of yet another dead end too much to bear. Or maybe it was a trick, a tool of Naomi’s to torture him with as punishment for threatening her. He shook his head once as the sensation of another being—one he knew better than himself as he had built the soul with gentle care—grew stronger. A tentative hand latched onto his leather jacket and pulled, and Castiel turned to face the impossible.

“Dean?” His voice was hoarse with emotion, and his brows pulled together as he fought to understand what was there, solid as the ground he stood on, in front of him. The hunter’s features were softer than he remembered, most of the creases and lines he had mapped out in his memory gone, but there was no denying it was him. Not at all. 

Dean licked his lips and hesitated, his eyes never leaving his face as he studied him, no doubt trying to figure out what had happened, and then, “Cas?”

Hearing that, Dean saying his name, it did something to the angel, and in no time he had the hunter wrapped in his arms as something akin to a sob escaped his lips. He’d seen Dean die right in front of his face, but having him here in his arms? Being able to grip his jacket in his fists and feel the comfort of being near his best friend again? It was all too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Cas buddy? Hey, hey.” Dean pulled back to look at this new angel, the one in jeans and a leather jacket with rain flattening his unruly hair and red rimming his usually clear eyes. “What happened to you, man?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but first—” shuddering inhale—“Dean…Melanie?”

Understanding dawned on his face, and Dean patted the angel’s shoulder twice before guiding him towards the car. “We’re on our way to go get her. All of us are.” Dean stopped and opened the back door, and three surprised faces stared back at him. “Guys, this is Cas.”

Sam scrambled out and appraised the newcomer before shooting Dean a look, Pointing to the angel he asked, “Cas?”

“Yeah. Uh, Sammy, you’re in the back this time. He’s riding shotgun for now.”

“But—”

“Sam. Back, now. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

They rearranged themselves, and once everyone was in their respective seats, with Sam staring daggers into his brother’s head and this world’s Cas inspecting the newcomer the way one might a suspicious smelling jug of milk that’s still a day or two ahead of its expiration date, Dean put the car into drive and peeled out. Castiel, for his part, couldn’t take his eyes off the hunter, and he would have been doing the same to Sam if the younger Winchester wasn’t sitting directly behind him. It didn’t take long to figure out where he was once he asked about Melanie, and though he wasn’t sure how exactly he arrived, Castiel wasn’t in the mood to question a good thing. 

“So how’d you get here, man?” Dean asked. 

“And how do we know you are who you say you are?” Sam added quickly.

“It’s him. I would recognize my own grace anywhere, but…you seem different. Stronger.” There was a pause, and Castiel looked back over the seat to meet eyes with his new found counterpart. “Why is that?”

“I had lost my grace,” Castiel explained. “Melanie had been taken and I entrusted it to the wrong angel, someone who was actually working with Lucifer. Of course, we didn’t know that at the time. I did what I had to in order to go undetected by him so that we could save Melanie, and it worked, but I never got it back.” He turned back to the windshield, his mind on the woman he loved, his partner. “We knew Melanie had a portion of my grace interwoven with her soul, and she realized Lucifer was tracking her using that grace, so she decided to figure out a way to extract it and give it back to me. Rowena found a spell, and it worked.” Castiel shook his head and dropped his eyes to his hands which lay loosely clasped in his lap. “Because the grace Melanie had had been taken from me before the fall, when I received it I was returned to my full strength. She made sure my wings were restored, and I—I’m forever grateful to her for that and many other things. Melanie gave me everything I never knew I needed, and then she was gone,” he finished quietly.

The car went silent, and the angel was grateful for the reprieve. This was and wasn’t his family, and the strain of everything was taking a toll on him. He no longer tired physically, but emotions were complicated, and it took a large portion of his mental capacity to deal with them lately. He needed Melanie back like he needed air, needed to hold her again and let her presence soothe his psyche. 

“An hour.” Dean’s voice snapped Castiel out of his thoughts, and he looked at the hunter in question. “We’ll be there in about an hour.”  
_____________  
The shame and guilt nearly overwhelmed me as I told the devil my story. I could feel his anger boiling, tickling the air with evil energy, but he wouldn’t allow me to stop talking. It was torture in its own right, and just knowing how much fuel I was giving him made me sick. I finished by telling him about the Lucifer from my world dying and me waking up in the bunker.

Lucifer stopped his pacing, his finger toying with his bottom lip before his eyes flicked over to where I was still strapped down to the table. “How did they manage to kill the other Lucifer?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I was out for that part.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

He walked over, or meandered is more like it. From what I knew about the devil, he was always way too relaxed unless someone made him angry, like really angry, like he had been up until a few minutes ago, and this new calm he exuded while I knew he was furious was freaking me out. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he stared me down, but what move could I make? I was trapped, totally defenseless to do anything but what he wanted me to.

“Comfortable?”

My eyebrows drew together in obvious confusion at the question. “I’m sorry?”

Lucifer waved a hand towards my body. “I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I’ve heard it can be a hellish ordeal at best, and labor?” He blew out a rush of air. “Even I wouldn’t subject someone to that kind of trauma.”

Icy fear pooled low in my stomach. “I don’t understand. What are you getting at?”

He placed a hand to either side of my head and leaned over me so that our faces were mere inches apart. “I can help speed things along, you know. Imagine the next few months flying by just like that.” He snapped suddenly, and I jerked away from the movement. “You could get out of here and be taking your little boy to a nice home where he’ll grow up safe, protected, normal. I can make it so that you never have to worry about a monster attacking in the middle of the night. I can make it so that you won’t ever even have to work for income. More than enough money will just appear at regular intervals so you can focus on raising him right.”

I admit, the offer was tempting, but that’s what the devil was best at. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Of course, I’ll be by to check on him from time to time just to make sure you aren’t squandering this gift. I want to make sure your boy grows up big and strong.”

I didn’t like it, not one bit, and my gut was screaming at me to get away. “And if I refuse?”

Lucifer leaned in closer, and there was a hint of soot clinging to the air around him. “You don’t want to refuse me, Melanie,” he said while playing with a lock of my hair. “I can keep you here, keep you…entertained just long enough to see him grow up and into what I want him to become.” He ran his nose under my jaw and up to my ear, making all of my hairs stand on end. “Think about it. There are all kinds of ways to pass the time.”

Another snap and I was back in my cell, although still naked, and gasping for air as I sobbed with relief. Alex scrambled over to the bars that separated us and asked about a hundred questions, but I couldn’t focus on anything except what he’d said.

Lucifer had a plan for my son. 

He was going to take him, and soon, and I had to choose whether I wanted to live eighteen years in peace or in Hell. I could try to use that freedom to try and escape, but I knew somehow he’d find us. Lucifer would always find us, so there was no out. I could fight back, but I’d lose and probably kill myself and my son. As far as I could tell I had zero viable options.

“Melanie, damn it! Answer me!”

My head whipped towards the woman gripping the bars beside me, and maybe it was something on my face, but she didn’t look angry at all. She looked…sympathetic? “What?”

“I said, are you okay?”

I brushed a hand across the still bleeding gash on my chest and frowned at the smear it left on my skin. “I guess. I don’t…I mean we mostly just talked.”

Her dark brows pulled together, and I couldn’t understand how she could look so much like Castiel as she tilted her head. “You were with Lucifer for hours, and you just talked?”

I nodded slowly. “He knew what buttons to push,” I mumbled. “It didn’t take long to make me talk.”

“What did you tell him?”

My eyes welled up, and I couldn’t fight the tears as they rolled down my cheeks. “Everything,” I whispered. “He threatened the baby, and I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. I'm so sorry, Alex."

She pressed her lips into a line and nodded. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for protecting him. It’s what moms do, right?” Alex held out her hand, and I took it, relishing in that small bit of comfort. “You do what you have to in order to protect your kid. It’s only natural, and I would’ve done the same thing.”

There was some yelling followed by a crash down the hall, and we both looked towards the source. Something akin to a growl ripped through the air right before a white light broke the darkness, forcing me to cover my eyes. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing louder by the second, and when I raised my face to see what was happening all the breath left me in a rush.

“Castiel?”


	14. Chapter 14

“Castiel?”

It’s safe to say my brain short circuited at the sight of him. Everything around us just kind of stopped. My brain, breathing, sounds, space, time—everything came to a screeching halt. And yeah, I knew it was him, my angel, and not the other one. Those blue eyes said everything. They reflected back to me every touch and kiss and moment we had ever shared. Every beat of my heart rang out with the sound of his name, and everything I thought I knew about what supposedly had been the end of our life together disappeared. Castiel, my sweet, sweet Castiel, was no more than a few feet away and staring at me like he’d never seen anything so wonderful in his life.

I jumped up and slammed into him, thrusting my arms between the bars to grip onto his jacket and pull him closer as he wrapped his around my back. My body gave a shudder as his warm hands skirted across my skin, making their way up to cup my face, and I forced myself to keep my eyes open and on him while his thumbs rubbed my cheekbones.

“Melanie.” It came out with the softest of smiles and a reverent whisper, washing over me and soothing my frayed nerves. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but you need to know that I never stopped looking for you.”

I smiled at him through the tears that had started and nodded. “It’s okay. I—I thought you died. I thought he killed you.” Castiel quickly shed his jacket before wrapping it around me and zipping it up the front. It was long enough that I had to cuff the sleeves and the edges brushed my legs mid-thigh, but it worked. With his return I’d forgotten all about being naked, and now that fact became more than obvious as I finally pulled my eyes away to glance at Dean trying to unlock the door to Alex’s cell beside my own. Well that’s nothing short of embarrassing, I thought. 

My angel lifted the hem of his t-shirt to expose a new scar on his side, and I couldn’t help but trace over it with my fingertips. “He got close, but I’m okay.”

“Why did it scar, though?”

Castiel shrugged. “Archangel blade. It took longer to heal, as well.” 

“Where are the others?”

“Sam, Jack, and the other me are keeping us a clear path out of here. We’ll have to move quickly. Can you handle that?”

I hummed and looked back up as Alex’s cell door clicked and swung open. She rushed out to hug Dean, and they exchanged a few whispers before she nodded and he turned to me. “Alright, Mama. Let’s get you outta here.”

Castiel stepped aside to allow the older Winchester to kneel before my cell, but the angel never relinquished his hold on my hand. He looked me over quickly and frowned as he caught sight of my chest. “Did he do that to you?” Castiel practically growled.

Pulling his jacket tighter around me, I flashed him a small grin. “I’m okay, Castiel. I promise. It’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Worry pulled tightly at the corners of his eyes, but he met mine with a steady gaze and raised his hand to brush his knuckles across my cheek. “Any other injuries I should know about?”

“A few minor aches and pains,” I told him. “The stress of everything has me hurting a little more than usual, but I’m okay.” I pulled his hand down to rest on my belly. “We’re both okay.”

Dean finished picking the lock and held the door to my cell open while I hurried out. “We’re running short on time. We need to put as much distance between us and this place as possible before Lucifer catches wind of what’s going down.” He passed me an angel blade. “You ready?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I have a choice?”

Dean snorted and headed over to where Alex was keeping watch down the hall. He craned his neck around the corner and nodded once before speaking. “Just make sure you stab ‘em with the pointy end, huh?”

“I’ll do my best, Dean-o.”

His jaw ticked, but he seemed to settle down once Castiel came up behind me. “She’ll be fine,” he assured the hunter. “Trust me. Melanie knows her way around a blade.”

Dean grumbled a bit and blew out a sharp breath before shaking out his hands. “Let’s do this.”

Dean took the lead with Alex close on his heels, and I followed her with Castiel’s hand a constant presence on my lower back. The halls were silent at first, the only sounds our feet echoing off the stone walls and the occasional dripping somewhere within the shadows. I tried not to think about what I was stepping on with each squish of something soft between my toes, but it was becoming more and more difficult as the faint light around us continued to dim. Between that and my back protesting the amount of stress and physical activity we’d endured, I was surprised I was able to stay alert. Castiel must have sensed my distress because he leaned down and brushed his lips quickly across my temple, sending sparks skittering across my skin. I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face and reached back to squeeze his hand in thanks. Man, it was good to have that angel back.

Dean stopped short at the next bend in the hallway and motioned for us to do the same. We all stepped back against the wall, Castiel’s arm sweeping protectively across my middle, and waited as the sounds drew nearer. Dean held up three fingers, his eyes never leaving the hall, and waited until the last demon walked by to attack. Dean grabbed the demon by the back of his shirt and flung him into the nearest wall, pinning him there and running him through with an angel blade. The other two rushed Dean, but Alex and Castiel blocked the way, cutting them down with hair-raising ease.

Alex brushed her hair back and looked around at the bodies. One gave a last flicker of orange, and she nudged it with her boot. “Anyone else think that went a little too well?” she asked.

“Yeah, well, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth, huh?” Dean ran his hand along her shoulders and guided her back in the direction I assumed we would be heading. “C’mon.”

We hadn’t gone far before the sound of more footsteps came echoing towards us. With nowhere to go, Dean and Alex took up fighting stances in front of me while Castiel readied himself at my side. 

“Dean!”

“Sammy?” The older Winchester relaxed immediately at the sound of Sam’s voice, and he stepped up to take him by the shoulders as Cas and Jack joined us. He gave him a quick once over, and his hand flew to the dark stain on his brother’s shirt. “What the hell happened to you, man?”

Sam’s eyes were wide with uncertainty. “It was just demons at first, but there’s something else down here with us. It was either run or die.”

“Hellhounds?” Castiel asked, but Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know what they were. I’ve never even read about something like that before, but all I know is if we’re gonna make it out of here, we need to go now.” 

I moved towards the brothers and lifted Sam’s shirt to expose the wound, dragging Castiel along with me—no way was I turning loose of him after just getting him back. It was a clean slice several inches long and still bleeding, but that wasn’t my main concern. I pointed out the blackened edges to my angel. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” Castiel narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Think you can heal him?”

“I already tried,” Jack told us. “Cas and I both did. We think the warding is still too strong.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and dropped Sam’s shirt. “Keep pressure on that, and I’ll see what I can do to stitch it up back at the car, okay?”

Sam nodded and swallowed before turning to his brother. “That way’s out,” he told him. “It’s covered with those…those things.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Maybe—”

Sam was cut off by the sounds of hissing and skittering coming from down the hallway. He gripped Dean’s jacket and pulled him back the way we had come. The rest of us followed, and as the sound of whatever it was behind us got louder, the faster we ran, stealth be damned. Whatever those things Sam described were was enough to put fear into his eyes, the type of fear I’d only seen him show when faced with Lucifer, so I knew it couldn’t be good, and I trusted him enough to take him at his word. Pro tip: if it scares a Winchester, run. Fast.

Of course, a pregnant lady can only run so long.

Castiel and I drifted to the rear of the group, the rest of them easily outpacing me as I fought for each breath, but he never lost his grip on my hand. When we rounded a corner, I slipped in something particularly gooey and would have went down if he hadn’t caught me and hauled me back to my feet.

Frantic blue eyes met my own as a particularly sharp pain spread through my back and around my left side. “Can you keep going?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I sputtered. “I think I pulled something in my—AH!”

Castiel was hit out of nowhere by a flying, shrieking, screaming thing that knocked him to the ground, and two more followed it. He swiped at them with his angel blade, cutting one and releasing a flood of dark sludge, but they just kept coming. I was frozen in place for half a second before launching my own blade and hitting another one squarely in what I supposed passed for its head. The thing screeched and turned on me, and that’s when I got a good look at it.

Its body was almost humanoid, but it walked on all fours like some kind of horror movie reject, and its face was void of any features save for a mouth. Jesus, that mouth. Its jaw opened wide to reveal rows of long teeth and a tongue reminiscent of the old Venom comics I’d read as a kid. Drool or blood or something dripped down its jaw and hung in thick strings from its teeth, and a shiver of fear ran down my spine as I realized I’d already thrown my only weapon.

“Shit.”

It was all I could get out before that thing skittered a few steps to my left, stopped, and circled back to the right. It couldn’t see me, but somehow it knew exactly where I was, and it was pushing me further back against the wall, circling and advancing until I was cornered with nowhere else to go. I couldn’t see around the thing—I was too scared to take my eyes off of it for fear that it’d take that moment to attack—but the sounds of the others struggling against these things filled my ears. Between Dean’s shouts and Castiel’s grunts, it didn’t seem as if anything would defeat them. 

The monster in front of me sprang, and I threw up my arms to defend myself, but I was still knocked to the ground. I landed hard with the thing on top of me, its jaws mere inches from my face, and I put all of my strength into pushing at its chest to try and knock it off balance. It lashed out at me with its claws, and I screamed in anger. For that moment everything around me stopped as I released my frustration at the situation. How cruel a trick to have lost all hope, only to have Castiel return to my life and lose him only minutes later to whatever hell spawn was crouched above me? How sickening to have fought for the lives of myself and those around me only to lose it all in this moment? How sad to know with each beat of my heart that our son would never have a chance to see the light of day?

As soon as the last sound left my throat, I mustered all of my strength and pushed—except this time it moved with ease, and I opened my eyes to see the straining hands of the angel that continued to save me wrapped around the thing’s throat hauling it away. I struggled to lift my head as Castiel held the beast and Dean lopped its head off. Something hit the ground with a thud, though I wasn’t sure if it was my head or the monster’s who had just attacked me. I was exhausted, too tired to do more than breathe at that point, but even breathing was starting to become a struggle. I closed my eyes to concentrate on each inhale and exhale, but then someone was gently tapping my cheek, and I forced them back open with a groan.

“Castiel?” 

He was hovering above me, his eyes wide and mouth moving frantically, but I couldn’t hear anything he said. It was like cotton had been stuffed into my ears or something. Nothing was making any sense. Why was he so upset? They’d killed the monster, hadn’t they? And I didn’t see any of the others still fighting, so why was he still riled up? Castiel’s brows pinched together, and he raised two fingers to touch my forehead, but nothing happened. There was no jolt of electricity, no warmth spreading through my veins, and apparently it had Castiel freaking out even more because he turned and started shouting at someone to his left before scooping me up, and OW!

Pain shot through my side, and I screamed as everything around me came rushing back into sharp focus. 

Castiel was running down the hall with my head tucked beneath his chin, and I pressed a hand to the spot that still throbbed on my side. I gasped when it came away wet, and even in the dim lighting I could tell it was blood on my fingertips. I whimpered and grabbed for the front of the angel’s t-shirt, praying for a miracle.

“You’re going to be okay,” Castiel told me. “Just hang on a little longer. We’re almost out, and then I can fix this. I promise.”

I wanted to believe him, but his voice was thick with emotion that revealed the true severity of my wound. “You’re a horrible liar,” I huffed, snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck. My limbs were getting heavier, and my fingers and toes had already gone numb, but still I tried to seek out a bit of warmth from him.

“That’s not…” He trailed off, swallowed, and I knew he was fighting lying to me again. “Please stay with me.”

I choked back a sob and squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t think I can. The baby—"

“Melanie…”

“Get him out. He might have a chance if I’m already gone, but you have to be quick. He’ll need you to heal him, or he won’t survive.”

“Stop!” His outburst shook me, but I couldn’t blame him. I was too far gone to be angry or even a little annoyed at anyone, let alone Castiel. “Please don’t talk anymore. You need to save your strength.”

“Promise me.”

“No.”

“Castiel, please…”

“Fine.”

I smiled a bit and sighed, my body sagging with relief. “I love you, ya know.”

He paused and tightened his hold on me. “I know.”  
_____________

Weird would be the only word I could use to describe the scene in front of me. 

I watched—yes, watched, though from a few feet away—as Castiel glanced down at the body in his arms and did a quick double-take. He skidded to a stop and fell to his knees, his hands flying to my body’s slackened face.

“Melanie?” He shook my face and turned it to the side and back again. “Melanie! No, no, no. This is—you can’t be. What—I don’t understand. No!”

My heart ached as Castiel brought his forehead down to rest on my chest, and I longed to go to him, to give him a bit of comfort while he cried. Dean had come to stand behind the angel and rested his hand on his shoulder. He gave a small squeeze, and Castiel’s body shook with sobs. I automatically took a step towards them, my hand outstretched, but a voice stopped me. 

“You can’t do anything for him now.”

I reluctantly tore my eyes away from him and looked at the couple standing behind me. “Who are you?” I asked, eyeing her black robes and the small, kind looking man beside her. The woman held an air of authority about her, and she raised a brow at me. 

“You don’t belong here,” she said, “and that left me with no choice but to seek help deciding what to do with you. I loathe that.”

“I’m…sorry?” I didn’t really know what to say to that.

The man beside her spoke up. “The point is, you can’t go to this universe’s heaven because you aren’t from here, so I’ve decided to send you back.”

“Back?”

“Home,” he said. “It’s funny. You know, out of all the worlds and galaxies I created, of all the different timelines, there’s only ever been one of you.”

I looked back over my shoulder at Castiel as he rocked back on his heels and pulled his angel blade. He looked from it to my face and back again. “You promised…” I murmured. 

“He can’t save your son,” the woman told me. “He died a few minutes ago, before you did actually.”

“What?” My focus snapped back onto her. 

“That humanoid creature wounded you, but it also hit your son. He was gone almost immediately.”

I covered my mouth with one hand as the other cradled my now-flattened stomach. “Oh my God,” I sobbed. “He’s gone, too?” I turned again to Castiel. He was murmuring apologies and trying to find the correct place to make an incision with shaking hands. “This is gonna break him…”

“Actually,” the man said casually, “Castiel has suffered a lot already, and he’s always been okay before.” 

I spun around and jabbed a finger in his chest. “How dare you!” I spit. “If you know what he’s been through, how can you just brush this off? He doesn’t deserve all this pain! Who the hell are you to decide what he can and cannot handle, huh?”

“His Father.”

I stopped short and blinked back the remaining tears in my eyes. “What?”

“You don’t have to worry about Castiel anymore, Melanie. I’ll take care of him.” The man raised his right hand, fingers poised.

“What does that mean?” I asked, but I was too late. The man snapped, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost finished, folks!


	15. Chapter 15

Castiel’s hand shook as he raised the blade over Melanie’s lifeless body. He wanted to stop, to scream, to beg her again to open her eyes, but he’d made her a promise. He had to get their son out if he was going to save him. 

“Cas, buddy…” Dean had squatted down beside the angel, and he was now attempting to take the angel blade from him. “Let me do this, man. You don’t have to—”

“Yes I do!” Castiel shot back while wrenching it away. “I made her a promise, Dean, and time’s running out. I can’t—I can’t lose them both.” He pressed his blade to her abdomen and whispered a quiet apology before making the incision.

The whole process went fairly quickly, and Alex came to assist as he entered the womb. She was, after all, the only one with real life experience regarding births, so it made sense. As a mother, Alex could see needs the baby would have that the others couldn’t. She would be the most helpful in the effort to save him. However, Castiel could sense something was wrong as soon as he laid a hand on his son. There was too much blood around him, and something vital was missing. The angel’s once precise and calculated movements turned frantic. He pulled the child from Melanie’s body, but there was nothing there—not really. The tiny body he held in his hands was limp, the skin blue, and a sickening gash ripped across the child’s abdomen that had also severed the umbilical cord, hence the blood. 

Biting his lip to stem the fresh wave of tears and try to stave off his latest heartbreak, Castiel sat back on his heels and cradled his son to his chest with one hand and stroked his cheek with a thumb. So small, so defenseless, the child never stood a chance. He knew what Melanie would say, that the boy had the face of an angel, but Castiel knew better. The tiny, button nose and perfectly symmetrical features were too peaceful to resemble anything close to what he knew of Heaven. No. His son wasn’t angelic at all. Even dead, he was so much more than that. “Perfect” couldn’t begin to describe him. It was all so wrong, so unfair. Why would his Father allow Castiel to have a child if the boy never got to live? Why would He let Melanie suffer through everything only to be killed in this dark place? Why would He allow them to meet each other at all? What was the purpose? Everyone around him was silent, letting him have his moment—or at least that’s how it seemed, but when Castiel looked to his left he froze in place.

“Chuck…?” 

His Father offered the angel a sad smile. “We need to talk, Castiel.”  
_____________

Everything was dark. My ribs and head throbbed with pain, but the surface beneath me was warm and softer than I expected. Inhaling deeply, I was met by a mixture of sea salt and rain. I felt everything shift as a car’s engine revved, and then a soothing voice rumbling in my ear before two fingers pressed against my forehead.  
_____________

“Melanie? Melanie, can you hear me?”

I groaned and flinched away from the sudden light that invaded my senses. Slapping a hand around blindly, I felt my forearm connect with something solid and heard a new voice. 

“Melanie? Melanie, you’re fine. You’re in the hospital.”

I squinted up at the woman in front of me. She was blonde, and in her twenties, with a kind face and a white coat. White coat. Hospital. Shit.

“How did I get here?” I asked, surprised at how rough my voice sounded even to my own ears. “What happened?”

“You were hit by a car,” the woman—I’m guessing she was a doctor—explained. “The driver and his brother brought you in, but you’re okay now. Just some minor injuries, considering how hard you were hit.” She smiled. “You’re incredibly lucky.”

“Lucky?” I mumbled. I didn’t feel lucky. In fact, my chest ached. It was like someone had torn my heart right out of my body. Something about this was niggling my brain, like I was missing an important piece of the puzzle, but I was still too foggy to concentrate. “How long have I been here?”

“A few hours. It seems you were just knocked out when you were hit. You sustained a mild concussion and a few broken ribs, but that’s the extent of the damage we can see.” She tilted her head. “What do you remember?”

I furrowed my brow and dug deep, trying to find the last piece of information I had absorbed. “A…a car, I think. I was maybe riding in it?” The doctor nodded, and I tried to come up with something else. “It was dark, and I was running from something…” Images flashed through my mind. A diner, a cell, a man—no monster—with a wicked grin, and monsters without faces. I shuddered, chill bumps racing across my skin. “I don’t really know,” I confessed. “It’s all kinda jumbled.”

“That’s okay. Some memory loss is perfectly normal, but it’ll come back to you in time. For now, you should focus on getting some rest. Is there anyone we can call? A family member, or a close friend maybe?”

Again, images ran through my head. Visions of Marty, my coworker at the diner, and another man, one with unruly hair and sparkling blue eyes, hit me like a Mac truck. “Maybe,” I told her. “Um, my sister doesn’t exactly live nearby, but I can give you the number of one of my coworkers. My boss is probably going to wonder about me anyway. How long until I can go home?”

“Well we still have to do a few more tests, but it shouldn’t take long. Do you need anything?”

I shook my head. “No. No thanks.”

The doctor smiled again and patted my hands where they rested in my lap. “Alright, then. Try and rest, okay? A nurse will be in soon to collect that information on your coworker.”

I thanked her again and settled back against the pillows as she left. There was so much that I didn’t understand. I thought—or maybe dreamed—I was somewhere else. I vaguely remembered another hospital and someone else in the bed. I remembered being happy and…then sad. I was so sad, but I couldn’t remember why. And then the most profound feeling of all: a sense of motherhood and mourning. 

I fiddled with the plastic bracelet on my wrist and glanced down at the information there. Name, date of birth, age, sex, a barcode, and then—

“The hell? April 6th?”  
_____________

A week later I was back at work.

My boss didn’t say much about the way I’d left the diner the night of my accident. He’d seen the security footage and knew how bad things got, so he was actually thankful I’d remembered to use the gun under the counter and told me to come back whenever I was ready. It stunned the heck outta me, but I just thanked him and said I’d be back as soon as the doctor released me. Marty had been coming by my apartment every couple of days to check in on me, and he grinned like an idiot when I told him I was well enough to get back to my job. He was my rock and made sure I never had to venture past my kitchen for food.

After about a couple of weeks back at work, I could finally say my life was getting back to normal.

Marty stayed with me until I locked up, and we parted ways a few streets over from the diner. It was still a bit chilly out, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I crossed the last street to my apartment building. Unlocking the door, I pushed inside and hung my jacket up before greeting my cat. 

“End of another day, Chief.” He stretched beneath my palm and moved to rub against my legs before looking up at me expectantly. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You hungry?” I asked. Chief meowed loudly and ran to his bowl in the kitchen. “When are you not?” I huffed with a grin while following.

After dumping a can of liver flavored gunk into his bowl, I straightened up and scrunched my nose. “Enjoy, dude. One of these days someone will figure out that stuff gives cats cancer, and I’m gonna have to switch you to the all-natural option instead. As for me,” I told him, turning towards the cabinet with a grin. “I’m gonna indulge in a bit of hot chocolate.” 

I reached up for a coffee mug and hissed as the move pulled at my still-healing ribs. I gripped the edge of the counter and bit back the f-bomb that threatened to spill out, opting for a long groan instead. Immediately, my mind was filled with the image of doing the same thing what felt like months ago, but instead of being alone when I turned around, the same guy I’d had flashes of in the hospital was standing there, and again I was assaulted with the fresh scent of salt and rain. The image was incredibly clear, so clear, in fact, that I could have sworn he was actually there with me. Or at least, he had been at one time. Maybe. 

I pressed a hand to my ribs and shook my head to try and dispel the images. This…we’ll call it a phenomenon, was beginning to happen more and more frequently. It was like I had all these memories from all these things that never happened to me. I had vivid, detailed, waking dreams of rooms and cities I’d never seen. I recalled facts from books I’d never read and sounds I’d never heard. My body felt as if it was missing a vital organ such as the heart or a lung, but whenever I tried to figure out what it was, my mind blanked out. I hit a black wall that I couldn’t get around or push through. I saw faces I didn’t know and heard a voice that shook me to my core, but names? Ha! Names failed to come to me. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t know why these things kept appearing, but they did. I felt like I was going insane. 

I debated on whether or not to call Marty. He’d noticed I was a bit off and offered to let me call him whenever I needed to talk, but I wasn’t sure about it…

“He’ll have me committed for sure,” I muttered to Chief. 

Rubbing my forehead, I stared longingly towards the direction of my bedroom, but I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t be getting much sleep. My brain just couldn’t quite turn off after one of those weirdo, mind-numbing phenomenon things. It was exhausting, but I couldn’t get those images out of my head. Instead, I changed into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt and settled onto the small couch in my living room with some hot chocolate and my phone. Bringing up the search bar, I typed in a few words.

“Memories from another life.”

I scrolled through the various options, everything pointing to reincarnation or soulmates or recognizing the signs of having lived a past life, and frowned. Maybe my wording was wrong?

“Okay, how about ‘repressed memories?’” I raised my eyebrows at the substantially better results. “Oh yeah, this is it.”

Hours later, my mug sat untouched on the table beside me, and I had come to one conclusion: I needed to find a way to access the memories, but the usual ways therapists online suggested could take weeks or years to work, and I didn’t feel like I had that much time. I needed to know everything as soon as possible, regardless of whether or not my mind was ready. I started searching for more non-traditional methods, finding all kinds of drugs and hypnotic states that would supposedly bring up everything I needed, but I didn’t feel comfortable with any of them. Finally, I stumbled upon a simple listing in a chatroom that promised help. There wasn’t a name or number, but there was an address. I took a screenshot of the page and dialed my boss’s number before informing him I was “sick” and couldn’t get there the next day. After that I had two additional days off—plenty of time to figure out everything I needed to know.  
_____________

I double checked my phone and frowned up at the crumbling brick building in front of me. It was in a lesser traveled part of town, and frankly the place looked condemned, but that wasn’t the most disturbing part. The place where the door had once been was sealed by bricks. I reached out and ran my fingers along one of the lines of mortar, my frown only deepening when my fingers came away covered in dust.

“How the hell am I supposed to get in? This isn’t ‘The Hobbit!’” I yelled up at the dark windows overhead. “I don’t have a magic password!” Everything remained silent, and I huffed a frustrated sigh before turning around and walking back the way I’d come. “Useless,” I muttered. “Abso-freaking-lutely useless. I never should have come down here.”

“Miss?”

I stopped at the sound of the tentative voice and turned to face it in shock. Behind me stood a petite old woman wrapped in a fraying jacket and patchwork skirt. She offered a tiny ghost of a smile and beckoned for me to step closer. When I was within a foot of her, her blue eyes shot frantically around before settling on me once more.

“I can help you,” she said, “but we have to be quick. Come along.”

“Where?” I asked as she started tugging my hand towards the alley.

“Inside. It’s not safe out here. Someone might see.”

I allowed her to pull me around the corner and halfway into the dark alley towards a small alcove nestled into the crumbling brick. As we waded through the piles of cardboard boxes piled around, I was able to make out a narrow, wooden door with rusted iron hinges but no knob. The woman muttered a few words under her breath and waved a hand across the air in front of the wood. Nothing happened for several seconds, and she repeated the motion again. Finally, the door drifted open a crack, and she pushed it open the rest of the way to expose a hallway darker than the alley before looking up at me expectantly.

I looked from her to the hallway and back again with wide eyes. “Look,” I said as I pulled away and crossed my arms over my chest, “I’m gonna need just a bit more of an explanation before I plunge headfirst because that looks like a horror movie waiting to happen, and I ain’t falling for it.”

The woman’s lips thinned as she pressed them tightly together, and her head whipped quickly in both directions before she leaned closer and spoke in a hushed whisper. “Listen, girl, we don’t have long, so if you want me to help you figure out what’s been hidden from you, you’ll hurry up and get INSIDE!”

She was practically vibrating with warning, so I nodded and squeezed past her into the hall. For such a tiny thing, she sure was intimidating, but I was pretty sure I’d just seen her open a door with something akin to magic—which, okay, the fact I was even considering that without freaking out was odd—but it felt right, and for some reason I knew she was on my side, so I stood quietly as she followed me in and shut the door, bathing us in darkness. Just as my eyes started to adjust, a glowing ball of light appeared above our heads, and the woman reached for my hand again. 

“This way,” she said, leading me deeper into the building.

After a few beats of awkward silence, I cleared my throat. “My name’s Melanie,” I told her.

“I know.”

That made me hesitate for half a second, but I kept following her. “How?”

“I knew you’d find me eventually. I just had to wait a bit and move closer so you could have better access.” The woman paused at the doorway of a small room and flashed a smile over her shoulder. “I’m Charlotte.”

I watched her move around the room, lighting candles as she went and gathering materials that she placed in a wooden bowl. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Not to you.” Charlotte paused again and hummed. “But I think you’ll find the one who it does mean something to very interesting.” She took a seat and gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”

After getting settled, I tucked my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting while Charlotte measured and poured several different colored powders into the bowl. She then grabbed a vial and poured the dark liquid into the mixture before muttering under her breath. The contents of the bowl flashed, and I squeaked while flinching away. “Sorry,” I offered in response to her stern glare.

“Are you ready to begin?” she asked.

“Do I have a choice?”

“We all have a choice, Melanie. Nothing is carved in stone, and Fate does not control us.”

“You seem so sure.”

“Believe me,” Charlotte said while beckoning for my hand, “you will be, too.”

As soon as she made contact, a thousand things flashed through my head: the feel of dark hair between my fingers, icy blue eyes, a rumbling voice that echoed in my ears, the sharp line of a stubbled jaw, tan skin, the ripple of a trench coat, the beating of wings, the metallic scent of blood sharp in my nostrils, the giddiest happiness, the hardest heartbreaks, sheer ecstasy, crippling grief, the most beautiful smile, and a name.

I came to in a flash, my heart pounding and sweat rolling down my temples to my neck. Charlotte immediately wrapped an old quilt around my shoulders and offered me a damp rag for my face but I shook her off. “Cas-Castiel,” I gasped around the sudden tug in my chest. I grabbed Charlotte’s arm and swallowed. “His name was Castiel.”

“And?” she prodded.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t make sense, not any of it, but I know what I saw.”

Charlotte leaned forward in her seat, her bright eyes searching. “What did you see?”

“An angel.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter for a while tweaking, changing, and adding content, and it's finally done. I'm sorry it took so long, but I wanted it to be perfect.
> 
> Anyway, here it is, the final chapter.

It took a few days, and more than a handful of awkward phone calls, but I was finally on the road, Chief curled in his carrier on the passenger seat of a cheap beater I’d bought off a guy at a garage downtown. Everything I owned was packed in that car, and all the money I had to my name was stashed in a paper bag under the seat. Charlotte had told me to follow the tug in my chest, no matter where it lead me, so I quit my job, refused to renew my lease, and left. 

It was weird at first, but pretty soon I figured out the tug was leading me west. I kept to the backroads and two-lane highways, stopped when I got tired, ate fast food and deli sandwiches, and rambled to Chief about each new memory as they surfaced. With my body preoccupied by driving, my mind was able to relax, stretch, and roam. Slowly I regained bits and pieces of what my life was before I woke up in that hospital bed. Specific names eluded me save for Castiel’s, but faces, places, and sensations were all too real. I remembered the feeling of our bedsheets and the smell of sweat after making love. I recalled the sweet, comfortable silence of lying in each other’s arms. I felt the phantom kicks of our unborn son and cried over his death so much I had to pull over early for the night and ended up hiding in the cheap hotel for three days before the pull became too painful to ignore.

I drove on, letting my heart decide what turns to take and when to stay straight on the path. I had to double back a few times due to construction zones and weird small-town parades, but eventually I ended up crossing the Kansas state line, and something inside me clicked into place. Soon I began recognizing landmarks from my memories, and when I saw the sign that said Lebanon was less than fifty miles out, I hammered on the gas pedal and drove like a woman possessed despite the late hour. Nervous energy surged through my veins, and Chief began shifting restlessly in his carrier. My heart pounded in my ears, and my palms were slick with sweat. A migraine tickled the base of my skull, and I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted the coppery tang where I’d broken the skin. Tongue between my teeth, I slowed as the two-lane gave way to an unlined road and the trees pressed in from both sides. I switched my lights to the high beams and let the car creep even slower as things became glaringly familiar. When I finally rolled to a stop in front of the iron door that led to what I knew was the bunker, I’d stopped breathing all together.

I sat there for who knows how long—suddenly terrified of what I was about to find and feeling like I was going to explode any second—and nearly jumped out of my skin when someone rapped on my window. The man tucked his hands in his pockets and stepped back to reveal a face I’d seen before but couldn’t put a name to. His smile was just a slight tilt at the corners of his full mouth, but even in the moonlight I could tell his eyes were kind of green. I gripped the door handle and got out, resting my hands on the top of my door and keeping it as a barrier between us. The truth was, I knew he didn’t mean me any harm, would lay his life down for me in a second, but I was afraid of actually facing one of the people who had been erased from my brain for so long.

“Melanie.” His gruff voice washed over me, and he scrubbed a hand down his face with a sigh. His eyes glanced over my beater and landed on the cat in the passenger seat before finding me again. “I know you’re probably tired, but I’ve got some bags in my car I need to get before we go inside. Think you can wait here a second?”

I nodded dumbly and watched as he strode towards a car parked several yards behind my own, grabbed a few plastic shopping bags, and returned to the spot beside me. 

“Well?” he asked. “Grab the cat so we can get inside. It’s freaking cold out here.”

I ducked back in to switch off the engine and hefted the carrier out. Once I had it comfortably balanced in my grip, I looked to the man expectantly and bit my lip again. “This is gonna sound really weird because obviously you know me, but I don’t know your name,” I mumbled.

The man rolled his eyes but smirked and shifted his bags into his left hand before extending his right. I shook it, and his smirk grew into a grin. “Dean Winchester. Sam’s inside. He’s—”

“Your brother. Right.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded. “So not everything went away when Chuck wiped your memory, huh?”

I stared at the door in front of me. “Not everything,” I sighed. “The parts about…Castiel came easy except for his name. I had to work a little harder for that, but then just about everything else fell into place.”

Dean stared at me for a few beats, and then, “How did you get here?”

“I followed the tug.”

Dean didn’t ask me to elaborate, just walked forward and unlocked the door before pushing it open. Warm light spilled out into the night, but I stayed back as Dean yelled for Sammy to “get his ass out here” because he had a surprise. I heard his boots clank a few times before they paused then and got louder. He stuck his head out the door and looked around until he saw me. “You coming or not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Cas will wanna see you.”

I gripped Chief’s carrier a little tighter as my heart sped up again. “He’s here?” Dean nodded, and I tried to swallow down the growing lump in my throat. “Okay.”

Dean started yelling again as soon as we were inside, and I heard another voice, this one a little more familiar, echoing off the concrete walls until an annoyed face popped around one of the dark, wooden bookcases. 

“Dean? What’s—” His face broke into a smile, and he practically ran up the stairs before engulfing me in a tight hug.

“Sam?” I asked when he’d let go and I could breathe again.

The mountain of a man laughed and brushed his hair back with a hand. “Yeah,” he huffed. “How are you here? I mean, I thought Cas said Chuck wiped your memory.”

“Some things can’t be erased.”

Sam took the pet carrier from me, and I curled my suddenly freezing hands into fists at my sides. I glanced around the familiar library, my eyes searching for the angel Dean said was hanging around, and took a shuddering breath. Sam rested his large hand on my shoulder and guided me down the steps to where Dean had piled his bags on the map table. The older Winchester didn’t seem all that surprised to see me, even if his brother was, and I wondered why. He just seemed to accept my presence from the start without question. 

The brothers chatted about seemingly normal stuff for a few minutes as they unpacked the bags. I stood there awkwardly and tried to focus on their words, but their behavior wasn’t making sense. It was like nothing had changed, like I wasn’t experiencing one of the most surreal moments of my life, like everything could be shattered if I so much as blinked wrong. They talked for several minutes before slow footsteps sounded from a hall to my right, and my breathing hitched when I finally got a good look at him.

“Please tell me you didn’t forget,” Castiel grumbled as he came into view. His dark hair stuck up in all directions, and a robe hung loose from his shoulders. Dark, bruise like shadows ringed his eyes making the blue pop that much more, and several days worth of growth covered his jaw. He blinked at Dean with heavy lids before gesturing with his hand. “Well?”

“Did you really think I’d leave the one thing I went out for at the store?” Dean grinned and tossed a purple package in the angel’s direction. It hit a less than amused Castiel in the chest and flopped to the floor at his feet.

Castiel raised an eyebrow and released a long-suffering sigh before scooping it up. He turned back to the hall but froze before taking a step. His head dipped, and the bit of jaw I could see clenched tight. Sam had crossed his arms over is chest and leaned back against the table, and Dean nudged him with a grin when Castiel turned back to us. His eyes were closed, his dark brow furrowed, and pain shot across his features when he finally looked at me. 

“Melanie?” 

His voice broke, and I choked back a sob before running and slamming into him. He caught me easily despite the rush of air that oomphed out when I hit him, and we tumbled to the floor in a heap of tears and tangled limbs and jumbled words.

“Is this real? Are you actually here?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even know you were real for a while.”

“How did this happen? I didn’t think you could get past the barrier.”

“I thought I was going crazy!”

“Me, too! I saw your ghost everywhere.”

“Are you human now?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I don’t care.”

“Melanie, I—"

I covered his mouth and laughed through the tears. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

It was like coming home, another piece falling perfectly into place. 

When we finally broke apart, Castiel kept his hands on my face and pressed his forehead to mine. “Chuck…He said you wouldn’t remember. He said He could bring you back, but He’d only do it if I promised to stay away.”

“Why, though? What did we do that was so bad?”

“He said it was about not tempting Fate,” Castiel responded bitterly, “but if it meant you could live…You have to know I’d do it again.”

I nodded. “It’s okay. You don’t think He’ll separate us now, do you?” My fingers slipped down Castiel’s neck until they were tangled in the front of his shirt, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The sheer thought of being away from him again caused my heart to thump painfully against my ribs, and I knew I’d do anything—fight anyone—if it meant I could stay.

Castiel shook his head and used his thumbs to wipe the tears off my cheeks. “I don’t know, but surely He would have intervened by now if that was the case.”

My body sagged against the angel’s in relief. “Thank goodness,” I breathed. There was a faint noise coming from the hall Castiel had appeared from, and I blinked a couple of times before meeting his eyes for confirmation. “Castiel, is that…?”

A brilliant smile—the same one I’d seen in my dreams several times—lit up his whole face, and Castiel got to his feet before pulling me up as well. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he said, “There’s someone you should meet.”

At a loss for words, I let the angel lead me down the bunker’s halls, vaguely aware of the Winchesters following from a distance, until we reached his room. The door was ajar, a dim light showing through the crack, and Castiel gave it a little push and dropped my hand as he moved towards the far corner of the room and spoke in low tones.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m still here. You know I’m not going anywhere.” I nearly bit the end of my tongue off as he bent over, and I felt someone place a hand on my shoulder to steady me as Castiel turned with a squirming bundle of blankets in his arms. “You’ll never guess who showed up tonight. Daniel, this is Melanie, your mother.”

And there it was, the last tumbler clicking into place, a finished puzzle laid out and the picture complete. My heart gave another lurch, and I realized that it wasn’t only Castiel the tug was leading me towards. It was both of them. My family was finally a unit, whole, unbreakable.

As the angel shifted to hand our son—Jesus, our son!—over to me, I shook my head in disbelief. He was so tiny! He had just a bit of dark hair on top of his head and a little nose over full, pink lips. His lids cracked open to reveal cloudy blues that danced around a bit before seeming to settle on my face. “Hi,” I croaked, my voice cracking with emotion as more tears sprang to my eyes. I blinked them away hurriedly so that I wouldn’t miss a second of our boy’s face. “How?”

“Chuck wasn’t the only one with conditions on coming back,” Dean explained. “Cas had a few ideas of his own.”

“I couldn’t live without you both,” Castiel murmured. “I told Him it was either with my whole family or not at all. Daniel was blameless and deserved to at least have a chance to make a difference in the world.” He huffed a small laugh before continuing. “Technically he’s from an alternate timeline—we all are, really. Sam and Dean were brought back with their memories of everything leading up to their deaths intact so they could stop Lucifer sooner and bring Jack and Mary home with Gabriel’s assistance.”

“What about the others? The ones in that other world? Did they make it out okay?”

He nodded. “They were returned to their previous timeline before you showed up, but they won’t remember anything. Chuck said it was too risky.”

A twinge of sadness settled in my chest at the thought. I barely knew them, but that group had become important to me, especially Alex. I’d miss having another female in the bunker. “So, Jack and Mary and Gabe, where are they?”

Sam squeezed my shoulder. “Mom took Apocalypse World’s Bobby to a friend’s cabin for a while to relax, and Jack is experiencing the ‘best life has to offer’ with Gabriel. Last I heard they were hitting up Sea World. The rest of the hunters that came back are scattered, and the rift is sealed. Now both Lucifer and Michael are trapped over there.”

“Daniel, huh?”

Castiel nodded and slid an arm around my waist. “Seemed to fit.”

“Judged by God and saved from the jaws of Death by an angel,” I whispered. I moved the soft blue blanket away from where his squirming had bunched it around his face. “This is insane. How old is he?”

“Just over a month.”

I hummed. It made sense. Castiel must have brought him back when Sam and Dean took me to the hospital. There was just one thing left I didn’t understand. “So what happened to your grace?”

Castiel shifted and reluctantly met my searching gaze. “I knew I didn’t want to live without either of you ever again, so I got rid of it.”

I gasped. “Castiel!”

“It isn’t totally gone,” he admitted, eyeing Sam. “We hid it here in the bunker just in case it’s…needed. For emergencies. I can’t go through that again, Melanie. I won’t. I lost my entire family—all of them—in the span of a few weeks, and I realized that staying an angel would mean suffering that again, and I, I couldn’t stand it.”

Well I couldn’t fault him for that, despite the idea of a world without him nearly breaking my heart.

I reached up and palmed his cheek with a smile. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” Castiel smiled and closed his eyes, leaning into my touch for just a moment before addressing the Winchesters. “I know you both just got her back as well, but would it be too much to ask if Melanie and I could have some time alone?”  
_____________

We laid stretched out across his bed on our sides with Daniel between us and our free hands intertwined. It had taken a while, but we eventually covered everything that had happened while we were separated after I thought Castiel died and then when I actually died. There was so much each of us had missed, but a comfortable silence fell over us after we filled in the gaps.

“You should get some sleep,” I murmured after watching the angel’s blinks grow slower and slower.

“I could say the same thing to you,” he sighed. “Driving vast distances shouldn’t be so exhausting, but it is.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been up every two hours for the last month with a newborn, and I made plenty of rest stops.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up sending a thousand butterflies fluttering around in my belly, and he sighed before reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “You’re just as stubborn as I remember. It’s nice.”

“Really?” I asked.

The smile grew and stretched across his face. “Yes, really.”

“Yeah, well, remember you said that in a few days when I start getting on your nerves.”

“I could never grow tired of you, Melanie.”

I snorted. “I doubt that.”

Castiel glanced down at Daniel and placed his finger in our boy’s open palm. “It’s true,” he said quietly, eyes glancing up at me and flashing away again just as quickly. “I’ve been without you for most of my existence, and though we don’t always see eye to eye, I’d rather have you than not. I don’t relish being away from you again.”

This time I was the one to breach the gap between us. I reached out to wrap my hand around his and Daniel’s. “I’m not going anywhere,” I swore. “Heaven and Hell couldn’t drag me away from you now. I’m here, and anyone who doesn’t like it can go screw themselves—including your Father.”

“He heard that, you know,” Castiel said dryly.

Holding his stare, I leaned forward until we were mere inches apart. “I hope so.”  
_____________

Daniel’s cries woke me a few hours later, and I pulled Castiel back down to the mattress by the back of his shirt. “I’ve got this one, angel. Get some rest.”

He grumbled a bit and flopped back with a sigh. “Formula’s beside the sink in the kitchen, and diapers are—”

“Tucked under his crib.” I grinned in the darkness. “We’ve been over this a dozen times. You’re gonna have to trust me eventually.”

Castiel hummed, and I could tell he was already mostly asleep.

Sliding out of bed, I grabbed Castiel’s robe and slipped it on before reaching for Daniel. “Hey, babe,” I whispered. “Let’s go get a bite to eat, huh?”

We made our way to the kitchen, and I leaned up against the counter while waiting for the water to heat up. “You’re quite the little miracle, you know that? Your daddy and I were never supposed to have this much time together, and you—” I touched his nose gingerly with my fingertip. “You never should have been conceived at all, but guess what? I’m glad you were. And I’m glad your granddad saw fit to save you back there. One of these days I’ll tell you the whole story of how your daddy and I met and fell in love and how he and those uncles of yours saved the world a few times.”

I grabbed the bottle and measured out the formula before securing the lid with one hand and giving it a good shake. Daniel started sucking it down with gusto as soon as I stuck the nipple in his mouth. “Got an appetite like Gabe, huh? I’ll tell you about how they adopted Jack and gave him a real home, and one of these days you’ll learn all about the magic this world holds.”

“At least you’re not talking to yourself,” Dean grumbled as he walked into the kitchen.

I stuck my middle finger up from the bottle with a smile. “Screw you, Winchester.”

He grabbed a glass and poured himself a cup of milk from the fridge before coming over to peak at Daniel. “How’s he doing?”

“Good. He’s really going at it.”

“We had a hell of a time getting the right formula at first. He kept throwing up everywhere whenever we fed him and got to where he didn’t want the bottle. Finally, Mom went to the store and came back with the gentle stuff. She got him to take it again, and now he won’t stop eating. Kid’s gonna be huge.”

I huffed a laugh despite the pang in my chest as we both continued to stare at him. “There’s so much I’ve already missed,” I said finally. “I’ll never get that time back.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mel.” Dean bent down and kissed Daniel quickly on the top of his head before heading for the door. “He’s got a bright future ahead of him. You’ve got plenty of time.”

He was right. The Winchesters had decided to get out of hunting as much as possible, and Castiel had retired completely the minute he brought Daniel home. Although the future wouldn’t be one without any supernatural influence, it still stretched ahead of us safer than we’d ever considered it to be before. We had a lifetime ahead of us. Together. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has read this work in its entirety, those who have left kudos, and especially those who have taken the time to comment. You can't imagine what it means to me. This series has truly been a labor of love, and I hate to see it come to an end, but I suppose all things do in time. I'm ready to move on to some new ideas I have rolling around in my head, so hopefully I'll be able to upload a new work soon. If not, and you found yourself enjoying this one, perhaps you'd enjoy another one of my stories. 
> 
> Thank you again for everything.


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